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REV.  AND  MRS.  H.  D.  CAMPBELL 


A 
CONGO  CHATTEL 

The  Story  of  an  African  Slave  Girl 


by 

REV.  HENRY  D.  CAMPBELL 


Missionary  of  the  Christian  and  Missionary  Alliance  to  the 

Congo  Beige  for  a  quarter  of  a  century.  Brevetted  by 

his  Majesty  ALBEIRT,  King  of  the  Belgians. 

as  Chevalier  de  TOrdre  Royal  du  Lion. 


CHRISTIAN  ALLIANCE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
692  EIGHTH  AVENUE  NEW  YORK.  N.  Y 


Copyright  1917  by 

Christiat^  Alliance  Publishing  Co. 

New  York,  N.  Y. 


INTRODUCTION. 

A  Congo  Chattel  is  not  simply  a  story.  It  is  a 
message  and  an  appeal.  It  will  cause  a  tug  on  the 
heart-strings  of  one  who  loves  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  make  him  wish  he  could  plunge  at  once 
into  the  midst  of  Africa's  darkness  and  seek  to  set 
some  prisoners  free.  It  will  encourage  some  who 
may  have  begun  to  wonder  whether  foreign  mis- 
sions are,  after  all,  worth  the  sacrifice  involved. 
It  will  surely  stir  every  honest  Christian  reader  to 
earnest  prayer  that  the  day  of  Africa's  bondage  may 
speedily  end. 

Mr.  Campbell  does  not  expect  a  wholesale  uplift 
of  the  degraded  masses  of  Africa  by  any  utilitarian 
schemes,  so  popular  in  our  day,  which  leave  out  of 
account  the  fact  that  the  individual  lost  soul  is  dead 
in  trespasses  and  sins  and  can  only  be  quickened 
by  a  living  faith  in  the  Christ  who  died  but  lives 
again.  He  has  seen  what  commerce  and  education 
and  industrial  advancement  have  accomplished  but 
turns  from  them  all  with  the  firm  conviction  that 
nothing  but  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  will  save 
Africa's  millions,  one  by  one. 

The  writer  of  this  introductory  note  will  never 
forget  the  day,  at  Freetown,  W.  Africa,  now  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  when  he  with  two 


6536 


4  Introduction 

fellow-laborers  welcomed  Mr.  Campbell  to  African 
soil.  With  a  large  party,  Mr.  Campbell  was  bound 
for  the  Congo  and  the  ship  made  its  first  stop  in 
Africa  at  Freetown.  When  the  brief  visit  was 
ended,  and  the  vessel  was  headed  for  the  ocean,  the 
missionary  party  gathered  on  deck  and  sang: 

"Launch  out  into  the  deep, 
Oh,  let  the  shore-line  go. 
Launch   out,   launch  out  in   the   ocean   divine, 
Out  where  the  full  tides  flow." 

Tears  dimmed  our  eyes  as  the  party  sailed  away 
and  we  said  one  to  another :  "Yes,  they  are  launch- 
ing out  and  little  do  they  know  what  it  may  mean 
of  hardship,  of  suffering,  or  of  death." 

If  we  could  tell  the  story  of  the  intervening 
years  it  would  show  a  record  of  fortitude  and 
heroism  of  the  highest  order.  Some  of  the  mis- 
sionaries have  been  promoted  to  the  presence  of 
the  Master.  Others  have  been  compelled,  by  sick- 
ness and  other  causes,  to  return  to  the  homeland. 
The  broken  ranks  have  again  and  again  bfeen  filled 
up.  Difficulties  of  climate  and  language  have  been 
met  and  largely  overcome.  The  great  wall  of 
heathen  superstition  and  demon  oppression  has  been 
broken  down.  A  native  church  of  several  thousand 
souls  has  been  gathered  in,  the  present  membership 
being  over  sixteen  hundred.  More  than  seventy 
native    teachers   are    giving   the    Gospel    to    their 


Introduction  5 

people,  while  every  church  member  takes  some  ag- 
gressive part  in  spreading  the  truth. 

In  all  of  these  trials  and  triumphs  Mr.  Campbell 
has  had  an  important  part.  It  will  be  seen,  there- 
fore, that  he  does  not  speak  as  a  globe-trotter  or 
a  novice,  but  as  one  who  has  seen  and  knows  the 
problem  of  Congo.  May  the  blessing  of  God  make 
A  Congo  Chattel  a  challenge  to  the  Church  of 
Christ  in  English-speaking  lands,  rousing  them  to 
greater  faith  and  new  endeavor  for  the  spread  of 
the  Gospel  in  dark  Africa. 

J.  E.  Jaderquist. 
January,  1917. 


PREFACE. 

Except  for  the  happy  ending,  the  story  of  Lelo 
is  a  common  one.  Similar  stories  vary  only  in  de- 
tails, but  in  the  main  are  much  alike  in  revealing 
the  merciless  exploitation  of  Congo's  women.  The 
substantial  facts  of  Lelo*s  life  were  related  to  the 
writer  by  Rev.  A.  R.  Williams  who  gave  her  asylum 
in  time  of  direst  need.  The  illustrations  used  are 
taken  from  photographs  made  by  missionaries  of 
the  Christian  and  Missionary  Alliance. 

Lelo  is  not  the  real  name  of  the  subject  of 
this  African  story,  but  she  is  a  real  woman 
of  flesh  and  blood,  covered  with  a  black  skin.  She 
is  also  a  type.  Some  of  her  actual  experiences 
apply  with  equal  truth  to  the  sad  lives  of  multitudes 
of  oppressed  African  women.  Reared  in  the  gloom 
of  superstition,  their  souls  are  dwarfed  under  an 
overshadowing  dread  of  impending  evil.  They  live 
out  their  animal  days  of  toil  and  drudgery  in  the 
cruel  hands  of  brutal  and  brutalizing  taskmasters. 

Congo's  women  need  friends.  They  need  Christ. 
May  this  imperfect  narrative  inspire  to  prayer  and 
service  for  the  uplift  of  these  sorrow-stricken  souls. 


8  Preface. 

May  Lelo  be  typical  in  another  and  better  way  of 
many  soon  to  be  brought  from  spiritual  darkness 
and  physical  degradation  into  the  heights  and  light 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  love  of  God  revealed  in 
Jesus. 

H.  D.  C 

Boma,  Congo  Beige,  1916. 


CONTENTS. 


Chap. 

I.  A  Girl  for  a  Jug     . 
II.  A  Forced  March     .     .     . 

III.  Tasting  Freedom     .     .     . 

IV.  An  Ordeal  of  Fire     .     . 
V.  A  Digression  on  a  Horse 

VI.  Tried  and  Acquitted     .      . 

VII.  Serving  a  New  Master     . 

VIII.  A  New  Wife  for  an  Old 

IX.  A    Generous    Husband     . 

X.  Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl 

XI.  Judgment  and   Justice     . 

XII.  Zuzi    Temporizes     . 

XIII.  Welcome   Bonds      .     .     . 


Page 

13 

27 

37 
47 
64 
81 

95 
115 
130 

144 

163 
182 
198 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Page 
Rev.  and  Mrs.  H.  D.  Campbell     .     Frontispiece 
A  Tribal  Chief  in  Front  of  His  Hut.    Fe- 
tiches Carved  on  Post i6 

Gathering  Nuts  and  Palm  Wine.     Man 

IN  Front  Has  Climbing  Belt     ...  i6 

Missionary  Caravan  on  the  Road     .     .  24 
Interior  of  Hut  Showing  Coffin  Used  as 

Strong  Box      . 24 

Burden-bearers  of   Congo 32 

Missionary  Residence  at  Vungu  Built  in 

1892  OF  Sun-dried  Bricks     ....  32 

A  Wooden  Idol  .........  48 

Congo  Chieftains 48 

Witch-doctor  Performing 64 

Brick  Press  Invented  by  Native  Evangel- 
ist             64 

A  Corner  of  Kinkonzi  Station     ...  80 
Fireplace  at  Base  of  Tree.     In   Lower 
Left-hand  Corner  Are  Charred  Bones 

of  Victim  Poisoned  for  Witchcraft  80 

Idols  and  Broken  Crockery  on  Grave     .  88 

Congo  Teacher-Evangelist  and  Wife     .  88 


12  Illustrations 

Village  on  Lofty  Ridge 96 

Native  Christian  Village 96 

Beginnings   at   Mboka     .     .     .     .      .     .  112 

Congo  Village 112 

Decorations  on  Grave.    Idols,  Gunpowder 
Kegs,     Crockery,     and     Periodicals 
Picked  up  on  the  Coast  of  West  Af- 
rica— Pinned  to  Striped  Blanket     .  120 
Baptismal  Service,  Kinkonzi     .     .     .     .  128 
Vangu,  Lelo  and  Her  Children     .     .     .  144 
Tattooed  Backs — Women       .....  144 
Railway  Station  and  Residences  of  State 
Officials,  from  C.  and  M.  A.  Mission 
Hill 160 

Group    of    Evangelists 160 

Congregation    at    Dedication    of    Yema 

Chapel 176 

Group  of  "Zinkimba" — A  Secret  Society 

FOR  Boys 176 

Native  Pastor 192 

Pit-sawing  Planks  for  Chapel     .     .     .  192 

Outstation     Pupils 200 

On    Itinerating   Tour 200 

A  Missionary  Home  at  Yema     ....  208 

Day  School  at  Vungu 208 


CHAPTER  I. 
A  Girl  for  a  Jug. 

HELO  and  her  mother  halted  abruptly  in 
the  forest  path  behind  a  living  screen  of 
vines  and  ferns  that  hid  the  village  of 
Kinkoso.  As  they  stood  under  the  wet  foliage, 
dripping  with  the  early  morning  mists,  they  stooped 
under  the  burden  of  water  jars  in  the  baskets  on 
their  backs.  A  clamor  of  voices  raised  in  alter- 
cation reached  their  ears. 

"The  palaver  has  begun,"  said  the  woman  in 
a  whisper. 

"What  is  it  all  about,  Mama?" 

"Chief  Bungu,  who  came  last  night  with  his 
caravan,  left  a  jug  with  Tata  Koso  a  long  time 
ago.  When  Bungu  sent  for  it,  Koso  told  the  mes- 
senger it  had  been  stolen." 

"Will  Chief  Koso  have  to  pay?" 

"I  think  he  will,"  was  the  reply.  And  then  with 
a  troubled  look  at  the  child,  she  added,  "Bungu  may 
ask  for  a  slave." 

Entering  the  town,  they  deposited  their  bur- 
dens at  the  door  of  a  small  grass  hut  behind  the 
largest  house  in  the  village,  before  which  a  noisy 
crowd  of  principals  and  spectators  were  gather- 


14  A  Congo  Chattel 

ing.  Had  Lelo  and  her  mother  foreseen  the  out- 
come of  that  conference,  they  would  not  have  found 
any  entertainment  in  the  gestures  and  eloquence  of 
the  actors.  Maybe  Lelo*s  mother  had  some  pre- 
monitions of  trouble  in  store.  She  drew  the  girl 
close  to  her  as  they  huddled  together  with  the 
other  women  at  one  side  of  the  plaza,  well  out  of 
the  way  of  the  men. 

"No,  I  will  not  take  another,"  angrily  shouted 
Bungu,  stamping  the  dust  of  the  place  from  his 
bare  feet,  and  waving  away  disdainfully  with  a 
brawny  black  hand  the  suggestion  of  such  an  alter- 
native.    "I  want  my  own  jug,  and  mine  only !" 

Koso  endeavored  to  interject  a  conciliatory 
word.  He  crouched  upon  the  empty  gin  box  that 
served  as  his  throne,  the  skirts  of  his  long  coat 
gathered  about  him,  and  .winced  under  the  storm 
of  anger  he  had  aroused. 

Bungu  was  within  his  rights  and  knew  it  well. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  did  not  propose  wasting  time 
parleying  with  the  unreasonable  culprit.  Possibly 
the  onlookers  had  not  weighed  his  manner  cor- 
rectly, and  maybe  his  attitude  was  put  on  for 
effect.  To  say  nothing  of  getting  the  highest  dam- 
ages, such  a  born  orator  and  actor  would  make 
the  most  of  his  opportunity  of  speaking  on  the 
only  stage  in  the  land — the  palaver  court.  He 
stood,  long  carved  walking-staff  in  hand,  apparent- 
ly ready  for  immediate  departure  if  his  demands 
were  not  met  at  once. 


A  Girl  for  a  Jug  15 

Bungu's  appearance  and  dress  harmonized  with 
the  wild,  tropical  background.  He  was  a  broad- 
shouldered,  big- framed  young  man,  with  much  of 
his  chocolate  skin  plainly  visible  beneath  his  scanty 
costume.  His  short,  tightly  curled  hair  was  par- 
tially hidden  by  a  long-tasseled  scarlet  fez  cap 
stuck  on  the  back  of  his  head.  He  had  on  a 
moth-eaten,  heavily  braided  red  short  soldier  coat, 
which  had  long  since  been  discarded  by  some  "civi- 
lized" warrior  beyond  the  seas.  This  treasure,  so 
valued  by  headmen  in  the  Mayombe  country 
twenty-five  years  ago,  he  had  obtained  after  a  long 
march  and  at  a  high  price  from  a  trader  at  Matadi 
on  the  Congo  River.  Although  decorated  with 
almost  two  rows  of  big  brass  buttons  the  coat  was 
open,  revealing  Bungu's  bare  and  muscular  chest. 
Fastened  around  his  neck  yvas  a  string  of  wild  boar's 
teeth,  with  a  single  leopard's  claw  pendant.  Tied 
to  a  girdle  about  his  waist  were  two  monkey  skins, 
the  tails  of  which  flapped  against  his  calves  when 
he  lunged  toward  his  own  people,  or  whirled  to 
fix  Koso  with  a  verbal  dart.  On  one  ankle  he  wore 
a  brass  ring  as  thick  as  a  child's  arm,  the  work 
of  a  village  blacksmith. 

Koso's  hut  was  built  at  the  head  of  the  single 
narrow  village  street  that  was  lined  on  both  sides 
with  irregular  rows  of  grass-thatched  houses  made 
of  split  palm  branches.  The  lane,  trodden  free 
from  grass  and  swept  of  rubbish,  was  the  only  clear 
spot    in    the    jungle.     Massive,     straight-trunked 


i6  A  Congo  Chattel 

trees  grew  close  up  behind  the  huts,  and  so  tall 
were  they  that  the  village  gathered  but  little  shade 
from  their  dense,  far-away  branches.  The  kingly 
crowns  of  rich  oil  palms  were  visible  above 
the  rank  foliage  of  ferns  and  vines.  Broad-leaved 
plantains  crowded  against  the  papaw  trees  whose 
delicious  fruit  clung  in  great  clusters  of  twenty  or 
more  about  their  tops. 

Disconsolate  Koso,  although  under  his  own  ver- 
anda roof,  in  his  own  village,  and  surrounded  by 
his  own  people,  was  peacefully  inclined.  In  fear 
of  what  might  befall  him  he  did  not  intend  to 
allow  Bungu  to  go  away  dissatisfied  and  revengeful, 
so  decided,  if  possible,  to  propitiate  him.  He  tried 
to  appear  at  ease  leaning  back  against  the  post 
that  supported  the  ridgepole  of  his  hut.  On  the 
post  just  above  Koso's  head  were  rudely  carved 
figures  of  men  and  women  in  all  manner  of  gro- 
tesque postures.  The  front  wall  of  the  hut,  about 
ten  feet  from  the  post,  had  a  narrow,  window-like 
door  cut  in  it.  On  a  shelf  above  the  door  were 
several  doll-like  wooden  images  decorated  with 
charms  made  of  bits  of  grass  cloth,  feathers,  and 
bird  claws.  An  eagle's  head  skewered  to  the  wall 
and  hung  with  medicinal  plants  was  also  added 
to  this  group  of  heathen  fetiches. 

The  people  of  Kinkoso  were  very  "religious"  ; 
they  also  had  idols  to  aid  them  in  their  devotions. 
Propped  against  a  stump  at  one  side  of  the  hut  in 
full  view  of  the  company,  was  a  rough  figure  carved 


4t 


GATHERING      NUTS      AND 

PALM  WINE.     MAN   IN 

FOREGROUND  HAS 

CLIMBING  BELT 


A  TRIBAL  CHIEF  IN  FRONT 
OF  HIS  HUT.      FETICHES 
CARVED  ON    POST 


A  Girl  for  a  Jug  17 

to  represent  a  woman  with  a  child  in  her  arms. 
It  was  quite  five  feet  high  even  after  the  white  ants 
had  devoured  the  legs.  The  town  goats  now 
scratched  their  backs  against  it,  and  where  its  proud 
feet  had  once  been  planted  the  pigs  had  dug  a 
muck  hole.  However  important  in  other  days  it 
was  now  neither  in  favor  nor  feared;  its  brief 
period  of  veneration  and  dread  was  past. 

Bungu,  answering  the  gestures  and  eager  invita- 
tion of  Koso,  allowed  himself  to  be  persuaded  to 
sit  upon  another  gaudily-labeled  and  green-painted 
gin  box  facing  the  old  man.  Koso  was  not  more 
than  forty  but  then  forty  is  "old"  in  the  Mayombe. 
His  ceremonial  garb  was  a  long-tailed  black  frock 
coat  which  had  done  good  service  overseas  before 
it  reached  the  Missioni,  and  notwithstanding  its 
worn  and  faded  appearance,  was  good  value  for  the 
goat  he  had  given  for  it  at  the  Mission  barter 
store. 

What  a  story  that  coat  could  have  unfolded 
if  coats  of  that  kind  were  in  the  habit  of  talking 
about  their  early  experiences.  Perhaps  it  could 
have  told  of  its  first  appearance  on  a  European 
boulevard,  surrounded  by  a  number  of  others  of 
the  same  elegant  cut.  Then  a  story  of  vicissitudes 
that  had  brought  it  at  last,  thin  and  greasy,  to 
the  obscurity  of  a  tropical  jungle.  Maybe  that 
particular  garment  was  specially  made  to  adorn  the 
"orator  of  the  evening"  at  some  missionary  meet- 
ing.    Its  tails  may  have  flapped  sympathetically  as 


i8  A  Congo  Chattel 

i 

its  wearer  warmed  to  his  theme  under  stress  of 
feeling  for  the  distant  heathen.  At  any  rate,  even 
if  the  former  owner  had  not  been  able  to  reach 
the  heathen,  here  was  his  coat  to  warm  the  heart 
of  Koso,  and  there  was  the  goat  to  cheer  the  mis- 
sionary larder.  Whether  it  had  been  sent  as  a  free- 
will offering  in  a  barrel,  or  had  come  baled,  by 
way  of  an  old  clothes-shop,  smelling  of  barter, 
matters  not,  and,  of  course,  cannot  be  known  as 
long  as  the  coat  itself  could  not  relate  the  story. 
Now,  although  rusty  and  snuff-spotted  in  front  and 
gray  in  the  seams,  it  not  only  comforted  Koso,  but 
was  admired  by  his  clan.  And  yet  it  was  a  great 
change  from  prestige  abroad  to  a  place  in  Koso's 
musty  coffin  strong  box,  to  be  aired  only  on 
occasional  palaver  days. 

From  a  buttonhole  where  it  was  attached  by  a 
greasy  cord  dangled  a  small  hollow  gourd  filled 
with  home-made  snuff.  An  accident  had  befallen 
one  of  the  tails  of  the  coat  and  it  hung  askew,  re- 
vealing the  grimy  grass  cloth  protection  for  the 
old  man's  skinny  legs.  Koso's  pineapple  fiber  cap 
was  without  visor  and  dyed  black.  He  sucked 
nervously  at  a  dark  clay  pipe  inlaid  with  solder 
taken  from  refuse  tin  cans  in  some  white  man's 
backyard  down  at  the  Coast.  One  wrist  was 
covered  with  brass  bracelets  which  clinked  feeble 
protests  while  keeping  time  with  his  mollifying 
gestures. 

The  men  were  dressed  in  nondescript  costumes. 


A  Girl  for  a  Jug  19 

all  much  alike  as  to  dirt.  Some  wore  red  blankets 
about  their  shoulders,  and  all  carried  knives  in  their 
belts.  They  were  seated  on  mats  very  near  their 
respective  principals  who  were  in  the  places  of 
honor.  The  women  and  children  were  almost 
naked  except  for  a  bit  of  cotton  cloth  about  the 
loins.  They  stood  in  groups  by  themselves  out 
of  the  way,  awaiting  the  result  before  taking  up 
their  baskets  and  hoes  for  the  day's  work  in  the 
fields. 

The  few  women  of  Bungu's  caravan  were  hud- 
dled near  the  feet  of  their  bold  leader.  His  men 
grasped  their  guns,  and  the  women  held  on  to  their 
loaded  baskets,  all  ready  to  move  at  the  word  of 
command.  Being  in  the  enemy's  territory  they 
were  somewhat  uneasy,  and  hoped  their  Chief 
would  not  go  too  far.  Koso's  people  were  with  him 
to  a  man,  but  those  experienced  in  palavers  knew 
his  case  to  be  hopeless.  Present  law  and  the 
customs  of  the  ancients  were  all  in  favor  of  the 
wronged  stranger. 

"As  for  me,"  resumed  Koso  as  soon  as  Bungu 
sat  down  and  composed  hhnself  to  listen,  "1  would 
at  once  give  up  the  jug  if  it  were  possible,  but  I 
tell  you  it  was  stolen." 

Before  Bungu  could  remonstrate  against  such  an 
impossible  excuse,  a  naked  boy  darted  like  a  flash 
under  the  eaves  of  the  low-hanging  roof  into  the 
sheltered  veranda  space  behind  the  two  "Kings"  and 
grabbed  a  dirty,  skinny  yellow  dog.     Taking  advan- 


20  A  Congo  Chattel 

tage  of  the  excitement,  the  cur  had  sneaked  in 
and  was  nosing  into  a  pot  of  steaming  beans  and 
palm  oil  intended  for  the  refreshment  of  the  noble 
visitor.  With  a  firm  grip  and  angry  curses  the 
boy  dragged  the  cur  away,  and  threw  it  whining 
and  snarling  into  the  bushes,  after  cuffing  it  severely. 
A  little  girl  snickered  at  the  first  howl  from 
the  wretched  beast,  which  was  the  signal  for  a 
general  outburst  of  merriment.  It  is  always  so 
amusing  to  see  a  habitually  starved  dog  beaten 
for  pilfering,  and  so  mirth-provoking  to  hear  the 
creature's  yells !  The  tension  on  gun  grips  re- 
laxed and  the  women  chuckled  with  relief  over 
the  happy  diversion. 

Bungu  talked  mostly  to  his  own  retinue  when  he 
rose  to  speak,  turning  occasionally  to  note  the  effect 
of  his  arguments  upon  the  opposing  faction.  His 
own  people  had  heard  it  all  before,  but  it  was  a 
righteous  complaint  and  worthy  of  many  tellings. 
Several  times  he  had  detailed  the  affair  to  the  cara- 
van with  minute  exactness  to  beguile  the  tedium  of 
the  journey.  The  gross  offense  of  Koso  was  with- 
out logical  excuse,  and  he  must  be  made  to  pay 
dearly  for  it.  Bungu  would  now  condescend  to 
rehearse  his  wrongs  for  the  last  time.  It  was 
enough;  the  culprit  must  settle  without  further  de- 
lay or  take  the  consequences. 

"I  myself  bought  it  down  at  the  River,"  Bungu 
repeated  circumstantially;  "it  was  full  of  malavu 
(rum)   and  I  gave  the  Mundele  (white  man,  or 


A  Girl  for  a  Jug  21 

man-in-cloth)  a  manload  of  palm  kernels  for  it. 
Is  it  not  so  ?" 

"It  is  so  indeed,"  chorused  his  loyal  party. 

Thus  encouraged  Bungu  continued:  "It  was  a 
beautiful  jug,  colored  and  striped,  with  a  handle 
of  clay.  So  strong  was  it  that  it  would  have  made 
a  mark  for  my  grave  which  neither  sun  nor  rain 
could  ever  destroy.  In  all  this  land  show  me  one 
woman  who  can  make  such  a  jug.  Bah !  the  jugs 
of  this  land  are  but  as  egg-shells  beside  it.  Mine 
was  no  fragile,  unpainted  earthen  jar,  burned  in  a 
fire  of  sticks  in  the  open  street.  Mine  was  a  jug 
from  kumputu  (the  foreign  land)  !" 

"From  kumputu  indeed,"  chimed  in  Bungu's 
crowd  affirmatively,  in  answer  to  their  leader's  look 
and  expectant  pause  for  their  amens. 

The  wronged  Chieftain  stopped  for  breath, 
while  allowing  time  for  the  facts  of  the  jug,  its 
value,  durability,  and  general  desirability  to  sink 
into  the  minds  of  all  unprejudiced  persons.  Then 
taking  up  the  strain  and  glaring  at  Koso,  he  de- 
manded, "I  left  my  jug  in  your  hands,  is  it  not  so, 
on  this  very  spot?" 

All  eyes  turning  mechanically  upon  Koso  had  the 
effect  of  upsetting  him.  He  knew  the  danger  of 
admitting  the  truth,  but  what  else  could  he  do? 
The  facts  were  too  well  known  to  stand  denial. 
Sober-faced  and  speechless,  he  established  the  fact 
of  guilt  with  a  nod  of  assent  that  would  cost  him 
dear.     Not  that  Koso  himself  would  pay  much,  but 


22  A  Congo  Chattel 

Lelo  and  her  mother  might  find  it  hard  to  foot 
the  bill  for  the  jug  from  which  they  had  never 
drunk. 

Bungu's  eyes  reflected  a  glow  of  triumph  and 
satisfaction.  No  need  of  more  proofs  now  since 
Koso  had  acknowledged  his  guilt.  All  that  re- 
mained to  be  done  was  to  settle  the  terms  of  in- 
demnity. The  vanquished  one  made  the  proposi- 
tion tentatively — "I  will  send  to  the  River,  and  get 
you  another  jug.  One  of  your  own  men  may  go 
with  my  caravan  to  select  the  very  size  and  pattern." 
He  offered  his  gourd  to  Bungu,  but  the  snuff  was 
waved  out  of  the  way,  almost  as  an  impertinence. 

The  victor  scowled  at  the  presumptuous  debtor, 
and  growled,  "Would  that  be  my  jug,  the  one  you 
took  from  my  own  hands?" 

Slobbering  into  his  cold  pipe,  Koso  cringed  on  the 
gin  box,  while  Bungu,  secure  in  the  great  advantage 
he  had  gained,  scorned  the  displeasing  offer,  say- 
ing, "Me,  I  tell  you  I  will  not  take  another  jug, 
nor  two  nor  ten  others ;  give  me  back  my  own !" 

Again  the  dull  reiteration  in  an  evasive  under- 
tone of  the  futile  plea,  "How  can  I ;  it  was  stolen." 

"I  must  have  my  own  jug  or  a  slave,"  tersely 
claimed  Bungu. 

His  demand  met  with  a  derisive  denial  from 
Koso's  people;  they  indignantly  agreed  that  it  was 
exorbitant.  While  order  was  clamored  for  by  the 
cooler  heads  of  the  village,  Bungu's  quiet  crowd 
watched  for  the  next  move  of  their  shrewd  Chief. 


A  Girl  for  a  Jug  23 

"A  slave?"  inquired  Koso  in  well-simulated 
amazement,  as  soon  as  he  could  hear  his  own  voice. 

"A  slave,"  slowly  repeated  the  wronged  Chief 
with  an  accent  of  finality. 

"For  one  small  jug?  No,  I  will  not!"  The 
refusal  was  made  as  if  he  meant  to  stick  by  it,  but 
noting  the  deepening  cloud  of  wrath  on  his  adver- 
sary's face,  he  modified  it  by  offering,  "I  will  put 
a  goat  'on  top'  of  a  new  jug,  and  drop  the  matter." 

"No,"  said  the  owner  of  the  precious  missing  jug, 
spurning  the  promised  goat,  and  conscious  of  the 
justice  of  his  cause,  "I  will  not  take  a  goat,  nor  a 
pig,  nor  both  'on  top.'  Give  me  my  jug  or  a 
slave,  and  be  quick  about  it,  lest  I  take  my  case 
higher!" 

Bungu  spoke  with  the  confidence  of  one  who 
offered  a  good  bargain,  and  affected  absolute  indif- 
ference as  to  whether  it  were  taken  up  or  not.  Be- 
fore his  adversary  had  finished  speaking  Koso  had 
made  another  rapid  mental  inventory  of  his  live 
stock.  He  had  but  few  slaves,  and  no  full-grown 
ones  that  he  could  spare.  By  all  means  he  must 
stop  the  matter  on  the  spot.  He  could  not  afford 
to  bribe  any  higher  "King"  and  feed  a  crowd  of 
hangers-on  through  another  hearing  of  the  case. 
He  would  probably  lose  and  not  get  off  with  so 
light  a  fine.  His  choice  fell  upon  Lelo.  It  would 
never  do  to  accept  the  terms  too  soon,  so  he  tem- 
porized with  Bungu's  ultimatum. 

"Me,  I  have  no  slave  to  spare;  a  King  must 


24  A  Congo  Chattel 

drink  palm  wine  and  eat  fresh  meat.  Who  will 
climb  my  trees  or  hunt  for  me  if  I  let  all  my  slaves 
go?  Take  one  pig,  one  goat,  and  a  new  jug  of 
palm  wine,  and  settle  it  so  at  my  expense."  But 
Koso  well  knew  that  his  insinuating  offer  would 
not  meet  with  a  favorable  reception. 

"I  have  spoken,*'  snapped  Bungu.  With  a  curt 
shrug  of  his  military  shoulders,  he  arose  and  ad- 
justed his  monkey  skins,  grabbed  his  'staff  from  a 
henchman,  and  added,  "Refuse  my  terms  in  the 
presence  of  these  witnesses,  and  let  me  go !" 

"Since  you  are  so  obdurate,"  whined  the  older 
Chief,  contesting  every  inch  of  the  ground  accord- 
ing to  the  rules  of  the  game,  "and  as  I  long  for 
peace,  let  us  then  consider  my  slaves.  I  have  no 
man,  but  I  have  a  boy.  He  is  whole,  growing 
fast,  and  will  soon  be  able  to  work." 

"Indeed  not,"  returned  the  victor,  "I  want  no 
baby.  However,  I  might  take  a  girl  child  to  oblige 
you,  if  she  is  strong  and  not  too  young." 

Koso,  with  seeming  great  reluctance  said,  "I  have 
a  fine  girl,  but  I  couldn't  part  with  her,  unless  I  got 
something  valuable  to  even  up  matters." 

"Let  me  see  her,"  was  Bungu's  non-committal 
reply. 

Koso,  throwing  off  his  cringing  manner,  turned  to 
Lelo's  mother  and  shouted  to  her  to  bring  her  child. 
The  girl  stood  clinging  to  her  mother,  but  was  soon 
hustled  forward  for  inspection.  Trembling  in  the 
presence  of  her  lord  and  the  big  stranger,  tears 


MISSIONARY    CARAVAN    ON    THE    ROAD 


INTERIOR     OF     HUT,     SHOWING     COFFIN     USED     AS 
STRONG   BOX 


A  Girl  for  a  Jug  25 

moistened  the  long  lashes  hiding  her  large  eyes, 
and  with  her  arms  folded  over  her  breast  she  stood 
before  them,  a  sweet-faced,  well-formed  child  about 
ten  years  old.  A  scanty  cotton  cloth  that  could 
have  been  drawn  through  the  brass  bracelet  on  her 
tiny  wrist  was  her  only  covering.  Her  ornaments 
were  an  anklet  of  brass  and  a  necklace  of  blue  glass 
beads.  Sick  at  heart  she  listened  to  the  big  men 
who  stood  commenting  on  her  little  form.  She 
longed  for  her  mother's  touch,  but  mother  was  now 
in  the  background  with  the  other  women  behind  the 
crowd  who  were  reckoning  the  market  value  of  the 
shivering,  chocolate-skinned  "chattel." 

Bungu  looked  her  over,  searching  for  defects 
while  taking  note  of  all  good  points.  If  not  so  valu- 
able at  present  she  would  later  on  bring  a  fat  bundle 
of  cloth,  guns,  and  rum  in  the  matrimonial  market. 
Taking  increase  of  value  into  consideration,  and 
the  children  that  would  come,  she  might  safely  be 
estimated  as  a  good  investment  in  exchange  for  a 
bit  of  painted  crockery.  Without  any  apparent  de- 
sire for  Lelo,  talking  as  if  bored  with  the  long- 
drawn-out  affair,  Bungu  announced  that  he  had 
been  expecting  a  full-grown  slave,  and  failed  to  see 
how  he  could  relinquish  his  just  claim  to  take  a 
half -grown  girl.  He  allowed  he  might  be  persuad- 
ed to  take  a  woman.  He  said  it  would  be  a  long 
time  before  Lelo  could  do  hard  work  and  bear  off- 
spring, even  if  she  lived.  Sickness  and  accidents 
had  to  be  reckoned  with,  and  even  death.     It  was 


26  A  Congo  Chattel 

a  risk,  but  he  was  anxious  to  get  back  to  his  own 
country,  so  he  would  take  the  chances  with  the 
girl,  giving  full  release  for  the  jug  he  had  been  de- 
prived of  in  such  a  suspicious  way. 

Koso  offered  but  a  feeble  remonstrance,  saying 
he  ought  to  have  something  to  equalize  the  bargain 
and  salve  his  feelings,  even  if  he  were  only  given  a 
goat.  It  was  hard,  he  said,  to  part  with  his  precious 
child.  Lelo  was  valuable  in  any  open  market  and 
that  he  wanted  Bungu  to  understand.  Bungu 
waxed  indignant  at  the  suggestion  of  dallying  over 
terms  of  surrender,  and  declared  he  would  go  and 
leave  the  palaver  hanging  fire  unless  his  ultimatum 
were  accepted  at  once.  Dreading  the  discharge  of 
a  weapon  so  well  directed  against  his  peace  and 
property,  Koso  with  a  final  groan  said,  "Take  her." 

In  that  short  sentence,  so  agreeable  to  Bungu, 
Lelo  listened  to  her  condemnation  to  a  lifelong 
servitude.  But,  what  of  it!  she  was  only  a  child 
and  a  girl  at  that.  What  mattered  it  where  she 
lived  and  slaved?  Who  cared?  Nobody — except 
Lelo  and  her  mother. 


CHAPTER  11. 

A  Forced  March. 

[OSO  called  loudly  for  palm  wine.  A  bois- 
terous manner  was  assumed  to  cover  his 
relief  that  the  affair  was  over.  "Bring 
us  a  drink  to  bind  the  bargain,  and  a  parting  cup 
for  my  good  friend  Bungu." 

A  slave  hastening  to  obey  brought  the  required 
refreshment  from  the  royal  hut.  He  bore  two  large 
gourds  filled  with  the  thirst-quenching,  slightly  in- 
toxicating drink.  He  produced  a  huge  mug  deco- 
rated with  bright  stripes,  and  a  deep,  thick  soup 
plate.  Lifting  the  cleanest  end  of  his  loin  cloth, 
he  deftly  dusted  the  mug  and  removed  some  of  the 
grime  from  the  plate  by  way  of  concession  to  the 
honorable  guest. 

Bungu  saw  through  the  open  door  a  great  assort- 
ment of  crockery  on  the  damp  earth  floor.  Pottery 
was  a  good  investment,  an  evidence  of  wealth,  and 
widely  used  in  barter.  The  supply  included  wash 
bowls,  pitchers,  and  one  or  two  common  articles,  the 
use  of  which  was  unknown  to  the  owner.  A  pass- 
ing glance  sufficed  for  the  display  inside;  Bungu 
was  more  interested  in  the  movements  of  the  slave 
before  him. 

After  setting  the  mug  on  the  soup  plate  between 


28  A  Congo  Chattel 

the  two  "Kings,"  the  man  filled  it  to  overflowing 
with  the  thin,  milky  sap.  Koso  politely  took  a 
hearty  swig,  thus  ingenuously  proving  that  no  evil 
substance  had  been  dropped  into  the  gourd.  The 
kneeling  slave  hastened  to  fill  the  mug  to  the  top 
and  over,  then  shrank  back  humbly  on  his  haunches, 
while  the  noble  visitor  regaled  himself.  In  turn, 
according  to  their  weight  in  the  social  scale,  the 
male  strangers  and  headmen  of  Kinkoso  partook 
from  the  oft-filled  vessel,  until  every  drop  had  been 
drained  from  the  gourds.  The  attendant  at  last 
sucked  down  the  dregs  of  overflow  from  the  full 
saucer,  and  generously  passed  it  on  to  an  envious 
youngster  to  lick  dry.  The  "Kings"  wiped  their 
mouths  with  the  backs  of  their  hands.  Koso  looked 
furtively  around  from  time  to  time  to  see  whether 
any  of  the  women  were  breaking  the  law,  but  fortu- 
nately for  them  they  were  found  kneeling  with 
covered  eyes  during  the  ceremony  of  imbibing. 

Before  Lelo's  affair  was  quite  settled,  a  loud 
sound,  strange  to  the  ears  of  Bungu,  disturbed  the 
silence  of  the  forest.  Koso  hastened  to  explain 
to  his  wondering  guest  that  it  was  only  the  bell  at 
the  Missioni,  and  informed  him  that  it  was  then 
ringing  to  prayers,  or  to  work,  or  to  something. 
Said  he,  "They  ring  early  and  late.  But  me,  I  don't 
like  it.  We  never  had  such  an  uncanny  noise  in 
all  these  parts  before,  and  I  am  afraid  it  will  bring 
some  calamity."  Bungu  observed  that  he  could  un- 
derstand the  cloth,  knives,  and  things  of  that  kind, 


A  Forced  March  29 

but  felt  that  only  mischief  was  to  be  expected  from 
the  other  new-fangled  aifairs.  He  expressed  mis- 
trust of  the  ha  Missioni  generally,  and  the  bell  in 
particular. 

Lelo  did  not  understand  much  about  their  plans 
concerning  her,  but  she  knew  quite  enough  to  make 
her  feel  miserable.  Standing  before  them,  not  dar- 
ing to  move,  and  shrinking  with  vague  forebodings 
of  evil  in  her  mind,  hot  tears  filled  her  eyes.  She 
tried  to  stifle  a  sob,  but  in  vain.  The  tears  trickled 
down  into  her  twitching  mouth.  Here  was  visible 
evidence  that  Lelo,  although  a  mere  chattel,  had 
feelings;  that,  although  a  slave  herself,  she  owned 
a  heart.  Ignorant,  naked,  and  black,  she  loved  her 
mother  and  dreaded  the  coming  separation. 

Koso  had  not  a  large  assortment  of  chattels,  but 
the  few  that  he  owned  were  all  greatly  prized.  Chat- 
tels are  movable  property,  and  under  that  definition 
his  chattels  consisted  principally  of  women,  weap- 
ons, animals,  crockery,  and  cotton  cloth.  Women 
were  rightly  at  the  head  of  the  list  because  of  their 
relative  value  compared  with  the  other  articles 
named.  Among  other  living  chattels  pigs  were  also 
of  first  importance,  because  of  the  high  prices  they 
commanded,  and  the  steady  demand  for  that  kind 
of  stock.  Not  only  were  they  delicious  to  eat,  but 
these  Mayombe  scavengers  never  balked  so  badly 
but  what  they  could  be  hustled  along  the  road.  In 
this  respect  they  were  much  better  as  an  investment 
than  women,   for  women  did  balk  at  times,  and 


30  A  Congo  Chattel 

could  not  be  budged  when  inclined  to  be  stubborn. 
Sometimes  in  a  temper  women  even  went  to  the 
length  of  killing  themselves,  but  within  the  mem- 
ory of  the  oldest  owner,  no  Mayombe-bred  pig 
had  ever  done  anything  so  rash.  On  the  whole 
there  were  advantages  in  favor  of  pigs,  since  women 
might,  without  due  consideration  for  proprietary 
rights  and  in  reckless  disregard  of  the  feelings  of 
their  liege  lords,  wantonly  destroy  valuable  property 
by  taking  their  own  lives. 

Koso  lived  in  a  palaver-saturated  atmosphere. 
Most  of  his  lawsuits  were  about  women,  but  pigs 
too  demanded  a  fair  share  of  his  valuable  time.  He 
handed  Lelo  over  to  her  new  master  with  as  much 
feeling  as  though  she  were  a  pig.  The  feelings 
of  a  pig  or  of  the  girl  were  alike  to  him.  He  com- 
miserated with  himself  on  his  loss  but  had  no  feel- 
ing to  spare  for  others. 

Obeying  a  peremptory  signal  and  a  muttered 
command  from  Koso,  Lelo's  mother  drew  her  away 
from  the  royal  presence.  Pushing  the  child 
through  the  crowd  they  entered  the  semi-darkness 
of  her  windowless  hut,  and  shut  the  door.  Such 
as  it  was,  it  was  the  only  home  they  knew,  and  a 
place  of  thrice- welcome  privacy. 

Seizing  her  mother  by  her  arm,  Lelo  whispered, 
"What  are  they  going  to  do  with  me,  Mama?" 

It  was  hard  to  tell  the  truth,  but  the  mother  knew 
there  was  no  time  to  waste  in  carrying  out  the  royal 
order  to  get  the  girl  ready  for  the  road.  .  Women 


A  Forced  March  31 

did  not  travel  much  in  the  Mayombe  country  at 
that  time,  and  the  journey  would  doubtless  sepa- 
rate them  forever.  It  was  too  cruel  to  be  true. 
The  baby  had  been  all  her  own  a  few  minutes  be- 
fore, and  now  without  warning  she  was  to  lose  her 
altogether.  It  was  all  she  could  do,  but  for  the 
child's  sake  she  managed  to  answer  quietly,  "You 
must  go  with  Bungu,  he  is  your  master  now." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  go  with  him,  I  want  to  stay 
with  you,  Mama." 

"Hurry,  Koso  will  not  wait." 

Lelo  heard  the  order  in  dismay,  but  with  a  sus- 
picion of  hope  in  her  faltering  voice,  she  inquired, 
"Will  Bungu  take  you  too,  Mama  ?" 

"No,  I  cannot  go,"  the  mother  answered,  A  vi- 
sion of  her  own  lonely  future  was  before  her.  Lelo, 
her  last  baby,  was  to  be  taken  away.  She  was  to 
be  deprived  of  her  chief  joy,  her  little  comrade  and 
close  friend.  Her  work  in  the  fields  would  be 
henceforth  drudgery  indeed;  no  light  in  the  dark 
little  hut,  and  life  would  become  a  weary  burden. 
Happiness  was  ended.  Oh!  how  quickly  the  little 
chapter  of  love  had  closed. 

The  child's  anxiety  increased,  and  she  cried,  "Oh ! 
let  me  stay  with  you,  won't  you.  Mama  ?" 

Mother  could  hardly  see  through  her  tears  the 
few  simple  treasures  she  was  gathering  for  the 
child  and  stowing  hurriedly  into  a  small  basket. 
Lelo  stretched  forth  her  arms  and  snapped  her  tiny 
fingers  in  the  characteristic  Congo   fashion  when 


32  A  Congo  Chattel 

trouble  comes.  Such  calamity  and  grief  were 
enough  to  affect  one  much  less  sensitive.  Convul- 
sive sobs  shook  her,  and  down  her  grimy  little  twist- 
ing body  tears  washed  crooked  channels.  Mother 
hated  the  task  and  yet  she  was  glad  that  her  own 
hands  were  permitted  to  do  this  last  service  for 
the  child.  With  deft  fingers  she  put  a  small  clay 
cooking  pot  and  a  tiny  water  bottle  into  the  basket, 
and  laid  between  them  a  few  bananas  and  some  pea- 
nuts tied  in  a  leaf  wrapper.  From  a  large  basket 
high  up  in  a  forked  stick  that  the  ants  would  not 
climb,  she  took  her  daughter's  holiday  dress — 
a  fringed  bit  of  cotton  check  a  hand's  breadth  in 
width,  and  as  long  as  the  arm  which  held  it  for  a 
moment  before  packing  it  away. 

"Don't  send  me  away,"  begged  the  child,  clasp- 
ing the  mother's  hand. 

The  plea  was  a  blow.  She  would  have  parted 
with  everything  else  to  keep  her  only  treasure.  She 
loosed  the  girl's  hands  and  said,  **You  must  go. 
Now  \"  She  thrust  the  little  one  from  the  hut  to 
save  her  from  needless  punishment,  hastily  wiping 
from  the  baby  face  the  marks  of  grief.  She  then 
placed  the  "V"  shaped  basket  on  the  little  child's 
back  and  fastened  the  woven  carrying  band  around 
the  burden  and  about  the  tender  forehead. 

Led  by  her  mother,  after  the  Elders  had  finished 
their  wine,  Lelo  joined  the  caravan,  and  took  her 
place  with  the  women  who  were  preparing  to  de- 
part.    The  burden  of  separation  was  not  all  bearing 


MISSIONARY   RESIDENCE  AT   VUNGU.      BUILT    1892 
OF  SUN-DRIED  BRICKS 


BURDEN-BEARERS    OF    CONGO 


A  Forced  March  33 

upon  Lelo;  her  future  of  weal  or  woe  was  all  un- 
known; but  deprived  of  her  only  joy,  the  mother's 
barren  and  unhappy  lot  was  all  too  plain.  Rebel- 
lious thoughts  rose  up  within  her,  and  she  asked  in 
her  heart  why  she  should  be  robbed  of  all  that  made 
life  worth  living. 

.  All  of  Lelo's  worldly  goods  were  in  the  basket 
and  on  her  person.  Dangling  from  her  bead  necklace 
hung  a  curiously  carved  nut,  a  sacred  treasure. 
She  had  worn  it  since  she  was  a  baby,  and  hitherto 
it  had  seemingly  served  her  well;  but  now  when 
most  in  need  of  its  good  offices  it  failed  to  help. 
The  business  of  the  nut  was  to  protect  her  from 
sickness  and  all  evil.  A  fetichman  had  received 
several  things  for  it  before  it  passed  into  her 
mother's  hands.  He  got  a  good  knife,  a  fathom  of 
blue  cloth,  and  a  full-grown  fowl.  Her  mother  had 
been  cheated  if  its  present  work  was  a  criterion  of 
its  worth.  Apparently  it  was  out  of  commission 
and  in  need  of  reviving.  What  worse  evil  could 
have  befallen  Lelo  than  slavery  and  being  torn  from 
her  home  and  from  her  mother,  and  what  disease 
worse  than  heartsickness  ? 

The  two  principals  in  the  palaver  parted  at  last. 
Koso  was  glad  to  have  escaped  so  cheaply  and 
Bungu  delighted  to  be  the  owner  of  such  a  healthy 
bit  of  live  stock  in  place  of  his  clay  jug.  No 
traces  of  their  true  feelings  were  allowed  to  appear 
on  their  solemn  visages,  but  each  one  tried  to  look 
as  if  disappointed  with  the  outcome.     No  time  was 


34  A  Congo  Chattel 

wasted  between  them  in  long  farewells.  The  cara- 
van soon  took  up  its  march  in  single  file  along  the 
narrow,  worn  trail  that  was  almost  hidden  under 
the  rank  tropical  growth  on  either  side. 

Lelo  started  as  from  under  a  blow  when  Bungu 
abruptly  bade  her  move  on  quickly.  He  was  not 
angry — far  from  it ;  it  was  but  his  way  of  speaking 
to  females.  It  came  naturally  to  him  through  long 
years  of  dealing  with  human  chattels  and,  as  his 
brutal  mind  chose  to  regard  them,  other  shirking, 
deceiving  slaves.  His  eyes  greedily  took  stock  of 
this  promising  chattel  as  she  moved  off.  Certainly 
he  did  not  intend  to  injure  the  little  body  that  bade 
fair  in  the  long  run  to  bring  in  a  rich  return  for 
his  modest  outlay.  Lelo  would  be  safe  from  a  blow 
as  long  as  he  was  sober.  Drunk  or  enraged  he 
might  foolishly  disregard  his  own  interest  and  do 
her  violence. 

Lelo  did  not  know  ba  from  da  (the  syllables  with 
which  the  Congo  primer  begins),  and  was  unaware 
of  the  fact  that  she  lived  five  degrees  south  of  the 
equator,  but  she  did  know  that  her  heart  had  been 
wounded  in  the  loss  of  mother  and  home.  How- 
ever, with  the  philosophical  unquestioning  mind  of 
tlie  native  who  recognizes  her  helpless  position,  she 
quietly  submitted  to  the  inevitable,  and  even  tried 
to  draw  some  comfort  from  thoughts  of  the  new  life 
before  her.  Bowing  under  the  burden  of  the  basket 
until  her  head  almost  touched  the  back  of  the 
woman  ahead  of  her  in  the  path,  she  began  her 


A  Forced  March  35 

forced  march.  The  noises  of  the  village,  the  cry- 
ing of  the  children,  the  dismal  howling  of  the  dogs 
were  soon  left  behind.  A  few  minutes'  march  and 
the  uncanny  silence  of  the  forest  covered  them  with 
its  pall.  The  caravan  heard  only  the  monotonous 
yet  rhythmical  slapping  of  their  own  plodding,  naked 
feet  in  the  narrow,  clayey  rut,  the  pattering  that 
sent  the  animals  of  the  jungle  slinking  into  their 
quiet  hiding  places. 

Not  far  along  the  way,  something  came  gliding 
through  the  dense  underbrush  on  their  flank  with 
the  swiftness  of  an  antelope ;  somebody  convulsively 
seized  Lelo  in  a  grip  that  hurt,  a  roasted  plantain 
was  thrust  into  the  child's  hand,  and  somebody  tried 
to  say  good-bye  before  being  roughly  pushed  aside. 
Lelo  forced  along  by  the  crowd  behind  caught  a 
glimpse  of  her  mother  sprawling  among  the  bushes. 
She  never  saw  her  mother's  face  again. 

Lelo  is  typical  of  the  great  host  of  African  bur- 
den-bearers who  keep  the  trails  free  from  grass  by 
the  tread  of  their  aching,  weary  feet.  She  had 
joined  the  great  multitude  of  female  chattels  that 
drag  out  a  tragic  existence  in  the  dark  places  of 
the  earth.  The  caravan  spent  two  days  on  the  road 
to  Kibungu,  camping  in  the  forest  at  night.  The 
monotonous  drudgery  of  Lelo's  life  began  at  once; 
she  entered  Bungu's  family  as  servant  to  one  of  his 
concubines. 

Like  all  girls  who  live  within  the  tropics  she  grew 
rapidly  to  womanhood.     Bungu  looked  upon  her 


36  A  Congo  Chattel 

one  morning  and  saw  it  was  high  time  for  her  to 
marry,  and  he  turned  her  over  to  the  chosen  man — 
that  is  to  say,  the  man  of  his  choice.  So  it  was  not 
many  years  after  leaving  Kinkoso  that  she  became  a 
mother  herself. 

She  cherished  the  memory  of  her  own  mother  and 
never  forgot  the  spot  where  she  was  born.  She 
clung  to  the  hope  of  returning  to  her  "home,"  and 
waited  patiently  for  an  opportunity  of  fleeing  from 
the  land  of  bondage. 


CHAPTER    III. 
Tasting  Freedom. 

HELO  had  left  her  old  home  at  Kinkoso 
under  a  burden  of  trouble,  and  now,  fifteen 
years  later,  she  was  again  occupying  the 
center  of  the  stage  at  the  same  place,  the  disputed 
chattel  of  another  palaver.  Mbenza  was  now  wear- 
ing the  old  "King's"  shoes,  or,  to  be  exact,  his  long- 
tailed  official  coat.  He  in  turn  wielded  the  fly  brush 
with  a  pattern  of  elephant- tail  hairs  woven  into  the 
handle,  and,  with  Lelo  standing  behind  him,  he 
viciously  swished  at  the  attacking  insects,  while 
listening  to  the  complaint  of  deceased  Bungu's  heir. 
Except  for  the  fact  that  the  village  had  been  re- 
built on  a  new  site  nearby  there  was  no  apparent 
change  in  the  people  or  their  surroundings.  Hardly 
a  memory  of  her  own  mother  survived  among  the 
new  generation.  The  dead  were  as  quickly  for- 
gotten here  as  elsewhere  and  an  exuberant  mass  of 
vegetable  life  hid  even  the  spot  where  they  lay. 
The  people  were  as  strange  to  Lelo  as  to  the  tiny 
eight-months-old  baby  astraddle  her  hip  and  four- 
year-old  Wumba  who  clung  to  her  bare  leg.  The 
name  of  the  village  was  now  Kimbenza,  taking  the 
name  of  the  reigning  headman  and  prefixing  to  it 
"ki." 


38  A  Congo  Chattel 

Koso  had  died  and  was  buried — two  distinct 
events,  with  an  interval  of  six  months  between. 
After  long  smoking  upon  a  bier  with  slow  fires  be- 
neath and  kept  burning  by  his  bereaved  concubines, 
and  much  winding  of  cloth  around  the  wizened 
body,  it  at  last  resembled  a  huge  dirty  bale  of  goods. 
This  bundle  had  been  coffined  in  a  great,  rough 
painted  chest,  and  dragged  on  a  rude  wooden 
funeral  car  over  a  wide  road  cut  through  the  forest 
and  grubbed  clean  for  the  purpose.  At  the  end  of 
the  road,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  village,  the 
gruesome  bundle  was  buried.  It  had  taken  weeks 
to  make  the  journey,  stopping  to  drink,  dance,  and 
fire  off  gunpowder  by  the  way.  The  precious  load 
had  at  last  been  lowered  into  a  shallow  trench  and 
lightly  covered  with  earth.  This  had  all  taken  place 
so  long  before,  that  the  ornamental  cloth  and  mats 
on  top  of  the  grave  had  rotted  away  in  the  rain 
and  blazing  sun  from  frequent  drenchings  and 
scorchings.  The  crockery  and  idols  too  had  fallen 
and  were  buried  under  a  profuse  covering  of  weeds. 

Lelo  was  now  about  twenty-five  years  old.  She 
had  deep  lines  about  her  mouth  and  between  her 
eyes,  stamped  there  by  the  drudgery  of  life  at  Ki- 
bungu.  The  small  of  her  back  upon  which  had 
rested  her  basket  was  as  hardened  as  the  palms  of 
her  hands  that  had  toiled  for  so  many  years  in 
wielding  the  short-handled  hoe.  Whether  it  was 
something  in  the  soil  or  an  innate  love  for  her  own 
kin  that  drew  her,  she  had  so  longed  for  "home'* 


Tasting  Freedom  39 

that  she  must  see  it  even  though  life  itself  paid  the 
penalty.  The  desire  increased  when  the  father  of 
her  two  children  died,  and  with  her  little  ones  she 
had  taken  flight  during  the  night  and  escaped  from 
bondage.  The  heir  who  had  been  deciding  on  a 
new  husband  for  his  "property"  before  the  body  of 
the  old  one  had  become  quite  cold  knew  where  to 
seek  when  the  news  came  of  Lelo's  flight.  He  fol- 
lowed hard  and  reached  Kimbenza  soon  after  her. 

Lelo  is  again  the  bone  of  contention.  The  snarl- 
ing heir  demands  his  rights  and  Mbenza  has  taken 
up  the  cudgels  on  Lelo's  behalf.  She  remembers 
vividly  how  years  before  she  stood,  a  trembling  tot, 
while  they  haggled  over  her  body  and  bartered  her 
away  for  a  worthless  jug.  Now  again  was  a  man 
clamoring  for  her  body  as  if  she  were  but  an  animal 
or  a  roll  of  cloth  "currency"  to  be  passed  from  hand 
to  hand.  Why  could  they  not  leave  her  in  peace 
with  the  children  ?  she  thought.  She  asked  no  more 
than  to  be  left  alone.  She  could  support  her  little 
ones  with  her  own  strong  and  willing  hands.  Why 
did  they  hound  her?  What  crime  had  she  com- 
mitted? She  felt  that  the  social  order  was  all 
wrong  and  in  her  heart  she  rebelled  at  the  cruelty 
and  injustice  of  it. 

"No,"  asserted  Mbenza,  calmly  regarding  his  ad- 
versary, "I  will  not  give  her  up.  If  she  wants  to 
go  back,  that  is  her  affair;  if  she  prefers  to  stay 
here,  I  will  not  drive  her  away."  This  mild  pro- 
nouncement indicated  a  challenge  over  and  above 


40  A  Congo  Chattel 

the  spoken  words  as  much  as  to  say — "And  I  would 
Hke  to  see  you  try  to  take  her  by  force." 

This  was  a  tonic  to  Lelo.  Invigorated  she 
looked  around  hopefully.  She  even  ventured  to  smile 
at  her  little  girl  and  reply  in  a  monosyllable  to  a 
childish  question.  She  swung  the  baby  round 
from  her  side  and  hugged  him  to  her  breast. 
Friendly  services  had  been  all  too  few  in  her  dark 
and  sad  experience  and  she  regarded  Mbenza  with 
grateful  eyes. 

"But,  you  know  she  belongs  to  me  ?" 

Mbenza,  with  uplifted  brows  and  an  inimitable 
shrug  of  his  chocolate-hued  shoulders,  thus  declined 
to  commit  himself,  and  make  public  the  extent  of 
his  knowledge  of  the  matter. 

"She  was  forfeited  to  my  father  here  on  this  very 
spot,"  angrily  declared  the  wronged  heir.  Some  of 
the  Kimbenza  people  smiled  broadly  at  seeing  him 
wax  indignant,  but  the  friends  who  had  come  with 
him  growled  corroborative  evidence.  Their  glances 
at  Lelo  suggested  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  for  her 
after  they  had  again  obtained  possession  of  her  and 
were  on  their  way  back  toward  Kibungu. 

"Times  have  changed  since  then,  niy  boy,"  re- 
marked Mbenza  sarcastically.  "Who  would  be  fool 
enough  now  to  give  you  a  girl  for  a  jug  of  rum? 
If  you  don't  like  it,  take  your  case  to  the  Zuzi 
(Judge)  at  Boma." 

Times  had  indeed  changed.  The  Mundele 
(man-in-cloth),  who,  like  the  camel  in  the  poem. 


Tasting  Freedom  41 

had  but  his  nose  in  the  tent  fifteen  years  before, 
now  enjoyed  almost  undisputed  possession  of  the 
Mayombe.  Lelo's  life  began  under  the  old  heathen 
regime;  now  she  was  to  experience  a  new  order  of 
things.  She  lived  at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  The 
people  were  confronted  with  a  new  political  system 
and  control  and  were  awakening  to  the  fact  that  the 
government  of  their  country  had  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  stranger.  Along  with  taxes  had  come 
judges  and  these  began  to  settle  native  palavers. 

Mbenza's  reply  was  received  in  blank  silence. 
After  a  pause  he  added  in  a  tone  that  would  have 
been  appropriate  to  a  member  of  an  antislavery  so- 
ciety, "I  may  say  I  don't  think  he  will  agree  with 
your  side  of  the  matter;  slavery  is  against  the  law 
now."  Absorbed  in  this  new  and  noble  sentiment, 
Mbenza  became  oblivious  to  several  incidents  of  a 
somewhat  similar  nature  in  which  he  himself  was 
at  the  same  time  entangled.  The  wronged  heir 
seeing  how  the  affair  was  going  modified  his  own 
course.  If  he  could  not  get  what  he  first  claimed 
he  would  take  what  he  could. 

With  a  brave  attempt  at  good  grace  and  an  ap- 
pearance of  willingness  to  do  Lelo  a  favor  he  said 
as  mildly  as  possible,  "Well,  since  she  is  so  anxious 
to  stay  here  I  will  not  make  any  further  objection. 
Of  course  I  expect  to  be  paid  for  her.  I  must  have 
the  price  paid  for  her  if  I  cannot  get  Lelo  herself." 

Mbenza  with  a  scornful  laugh  returned  the  ques- 
tion, "Her  price?     Do  you  mean  what  Bung^  gave 


42  A  Congo  Chattel 

for  her?  You  may  get  a  jug  of  rum  from  some- 
body else,  I  have  none  to  spare.  Why  not  ask  the 
Zuzi  at  Boma  to  pay  you  ?" 

"Good,"  said  the  heir,  stung  into  taking  up  the 
challenge;  "to  Boma  we  go  then,  but  Lelo  must  go 
with  us." 

Lelo  stood  listening  intently  and  noting  every  turn 
of  the  palaver  that  was  to  decide  her  fate.  She  had 
taken  a  long  step  toward  liberty,  and  as  far  as  she 
had  gotten  she  liked  the  experience  and  was  ready 
to  advance  farther.  She  determined  she  would  not 
go  back  without  first  making  a  strong  fight  to  save 
herself  from  the  drudgery  of  the  past  years.  "Me, 
I  will  go  to  Boma  to  see  the  white  Zuzi,"  she  said, 
"but  you  will  have  to  bind  and  drag  me  back  to 
Kibungu." 

Determination  was  in  her  low-spoken  words.  It 
was  not  necessary  for  her  to  lift  her  voice  or  look 
up  from  the  nursing  baby  to  make  the  heir  under- 
stand that  she  meant  all  she  said.  The  villagers 
felt  too  that  Lelo  was  capable  of  some  desperate 
act;  that  she  had  reached  the  limit  of  endurance. 
Boma  was  not  so  dreadful  to  her  as  a  return  to  the 
old  life  even  if  she  shrank  from  the  journey  to  that 
strange  place.  Queer  tales  of  the  city  that  had  as 
many  as  two  hundred  white  men  in  it,  and  the  un- 
common happenings  there,  had  been  talked  about 
for  years  among  the  women  folks.  None  of  these 
stories  tended  to  inspire  confidence  among  the 
people  of  the  hinterland.     The  heir  was  not  anxious 


Tasting  Freedom  43 

for  the  journey;  his  expressed  wilUngness  to  face 
the  white  Zuzi  was  mostly  in  word.  He  could  ex- 
pect little  from  such  a  trip.  How  could  any  Mun- 
dele  with  his  foreign  way  of  looking  at  matters 
settle  a  palaver  to  the  satisfaction  of  Mayombe 
litigants  ? 

An  unexpected  but  welcome  interruption  occurred 
at  this  juncture.  A  solution  of  the  problem  was 
found  in  the  arrival  on  the  scene  of  Mavambu,  the 
deaf  headman  of  a  nearby  village.  Mavambu  al- 
though born  a  slave  was  mounting  the  social  ladder. 
He  was  soon  to  be  appointed  to  the  coveted  position 
of  Medal  Chief  to  represent  the  government  in  his 
district.  The  advent  of  a  man  of  such  prestige 
and  influence  naturally  caused  a  stir.  He  pressed 
up  as  close  as  he  could  get  to  the  speakers,  staring 
from  one  to  the  other  and  thrusting  his  head  for- 
ward, with  strained  expression  to  better  hear  their 
answers  to  his  rapid  questions.  Getting  in  touch 
with  the  situation  and  looking  Lelo  over,  he  made  a 
sudden  resolve. 

Talking  loudly,  as  if  the  listeners  were  deaf,  he 
volunteered,  "Me,  I  will  pay  to  settle  this  palaver," 
adding  hastily,  in  order  to  clear  away  any  miscon- 
ception in  the  minds  of  Lelo  and  the  heir  regarding 
his  offer,  "I'll  take  her  for  my  wife  if  the  price  is 
reasonable ;  but  I  won't  be  imposed  upon." 

The  heir  said  at  once  he  could  not  see  any  reason 
why  the  ba-Kongo  people  should  take  any  of  their 
own  palavers  to  a  white  stranger,  ignorant  of  their 


44  ^  A  Congo  Chattel 

customs  and  knowing  only  a  few  words  of  the  ki- 
Kongo  language.  Lelo  said  nothing,  which  was  re- 
garded as  the  correct  attitude  by  the  crowd.  What 
was  there  for  her  to  say?  The  people  thought  the 
offer  a  good  solution  to  a  hard  question,  and  it  was 
suggested  that  not  only  was  Mavambu  a  public  offi- 
cial, but  he  was  showing  a  fine  public  spirit  in  the 
present  emergency.  How  much  better  to  arrange 
their  own  affairs  and  thus  keep  clear  of  the  uncer- 
tain decisions  of  the  Zuzi,  and  the  troublesome  com- 
plications his  findings  so  often  made. 

Lelo  was  not  enraptured  with  the  prospect,  but 
the  unexpected  intervention  of  Mavambu  was  obvi- 
ously the  right  answer.  She  must  have  a  male  pro- 
tector like  all  other  women ;  she  could  not  be  allowed 
to  own  herself  and  run  loose  in  the  community.  Then 
why  not  Mavambu  ?  He  was  a  man  and  had  power  to 
keep  her  from  becoming  public  prey,  and  he,  more- 
over, lived  on  the  dear  patch  of  green  earth  that  had 
nourished  her  in  her  early  years.  True,  Lelo  would 
not  be  his  first  love;  at  least  ten  predecessors  had 
occupied  a  place  in  his  heart.  Maybe  it  was  his 
stomach  that  had  been  principally  affected.  Most 
of  his  happy  recollections  of  the  departed  ones  and 
present  incumbents  had  to  do  with  something  good 
to  eat,  or  the  way  they  prepared  his  food.  At  the 
moment  there  were  several  living  rivals  that  Lelo 
would  have  to  reckon  with  in  getting  a  solid  foot- 
ing within  Mavambu's  compound. 

Mavambu  was  no  longer  young,  and  had  never 


Tasting  Freedom  45 

been  noted  for  his  good  looks.  But  that  made  little 
difference  to  Lelo,  and  one  in  her  place  could  not 
afford  to  be  too  fastidious  about  her  means  of  de- 
liverance. After  all,  Lelo  herself  was  not  so  young 
as  might  be  desirable  in  order  to  be  much  in  demand. 
Her  life  of  constant  toil  had  left  marks,  yet  she  still 
had  traces  of  personal  charm  and  beauty.  If  not 
young  she  was  strong  and  well  knew  how  to  plant 
a  field,  cultivate  it,  prepare  tasty  messes  from  its 
produce  for  the  family  platter,  and  that  of  course 
was  the  principal  thing.  Indeed  after  spending 
years  over  the  cook-pots,  she  was  in  this  respect 
more  valuable  than  a  younger  woman.  She  could 
doubtless  gladden  the  heart  of  Mavambu  with  richly 
oiled  and  peppered  vegetables  should  he  be  able  to 
conclude  the  bargain. 

Lelo's  voice  was  not  heard  during  the  time  the 
principals  were  closing  the  business.  She  quietly 
yielded  to  the  lot  they  offered  her.  The  sum  was 
agreed  upon  and  settled  with  fewer  phrases  than 
usual.  The  heir  was  glad  in  these  changing  times 
to  get  even  a  moderate  return  for  his  father's  in- 
vestment. He  felt  that  after  all  the  family  had 
made  a  pretty  good  thing  out  of  Lelo.  Bungu  got 
her  for  a  jug  of  rum,  and  Lelo's  deceased  husband 
had  paid  a  good-sized  bundle  of  cloth,  and  other 
valuable  things  including  rum  and  a  sheep,  before 
he  had  been  given  a  life  interest  in  the  chattel. 
And  now  the  heir  was  to  get  more  booty  so  he  reck- 
oned that  close  bargaining  would  be  in  bad  taste, 


46  A  Congo  Chattel 

particularly  since  the  white  Zuzi  had  been  men- 
tioned. 

Mavambu  soon  brought  back  from  his  town  the 
first  payment  of  rum  and  cloth.  The  generous  heir 
agreed  to  relinquish  all  claim  on  Lelo  as  soon  as  the 
full  sum  was  received.  The  little  ones  were  to  stay 
with  Lelo,  and  Mavambu  became  her  happy  owner. 
Thus  Lelo  got  a  legal  hut  for  herself  and  babies,  a 
male  champion,  and  the  right  to  live  unhunted.  She 
had  no  cause  to  fear  hunger  as  long  as  she  would 
be  able  to  work,  nor  bodily  harm  as  long  as  Ma- 
vambu kept  in  good  spirits — and  kept  away  from 
trade  spirits.  What  more  could  a  reasonable 
woman  ask?  Things  had  indeed  come  her  way 
since  boldly  taking  matters  into  her  own  hands, 
cutting  the  cords  of  bondage  and  leaving  Kibungu 
behind  her. 

Mavambu  led  the  way  to  his  village  looking  back 
once  in  a  while  to  say  an  encouraging  word  or  leer 
good-naturedly  at  his  new  piece  of  property  and 
wave  his  free  and  empty  hand  at  the  baby,  while 
Lelo,  bent  double  under  the  child  and  the  well-filled 
basket  on  her  back,  followed  him  patiently.  Sweet 
little  Wumba  trotted  at  her  heels  away  to  their  new 
stall  in  Mavambu's  compound  which  was  located 
within  gunshot  of  Yenge  Chapel. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

An  Ordeal  of  Fire. 

M^^p^HE  first  year  passed  almost  uneventfully. 
m  C\  Lelo's  life  in  Mavambu's  compound  was 
^^^^  without  remarkable  incident,  until  a  new 
little  boy  came.  Her  simple  life  was,  however,  but 
little  disturbed  by  this  event  as  he  made  very  little 
more  work  in  the  "home."  She  had  neither  wash- 
ing nor  cooking  to  do  for  him.  When  he  was 
hungry  she  nursed  him  at  the  breast,  or  gave  him  a 
bit  of  roast  sweet  potato  to  chew  upon.  When  he 
was  dirty  she  had  only  to  wash  his  chubby  little 
body  for  he  wore  not  the  tiniest  scrap  of  cloth  to 
soil. 

She  bathed  the  little  tot  at  irregular  intervals  by 
placing  a  great  pot  of  water  out  in  the  open  street. 
Then  seizing  the  tiny  mite  by  one  arm,  she  swung 
him  screaming  and  kicking  aloft,  while  with  the 
other  hand  she  dashed  and  splashed  him  with  cold 
water;  resting  him  for  a  moment  in  her  lap,  she 
loosened  the  dirt  with  brisk  rubbing ;  then  grasping 
him  by  the  other  arm  and  holding  him  up  as  before, 
she  repeated  the  dose  of  water  to  his  sputtering  ac- 
companiment. Rolling  about  in  the  sun  or  lying 
on  a  bit  of  mat  by  the  fire,  he  soon  dried  off  without 
further   bother.     So   there   was   nothing   complex 


48  A  Congo  Chattel 

about  her  home  life  and  duties  to  be  interfered  with 
by  the  arrival  of  a  new  baby. 

She  hadn't  the  heart  to  treat  her  baby  as  some  of 
the  other  women  did  who  threw  their  squirming, 
tender  little  ones  on  to  the  low  sloping  roofs,  catch- 
ing them  in  their  arms,  as  they  rolled  over  and  down 
and  off  to  harden  them.  Somehow  Lelo  couldn't 
bear  to  hear  her  baby  scream  with  fright  at  such 
rough  treatment,  so  she  omitted  that  kind  of  gym- 
nastics in  raising  her  little  ones. 

A  trying  incident  in  her  life  at  this  time  was 
connected  with  the  fate  that  befell  her  mother.  She 
was  told  the  sad  tale  soon  after  her  baby  was  born. 
Lelo  had  never  forgotten  her  mother,  and  with 
love  and  longing  often  meditated  upon  the  one  good 
and  true  friend  she  had  ever  known.  The  image 
of  her  dear  mother,  clothed  in  a  rich  drapery  of 
sacred  memories,  was  enshrined  within  her  heart. 
She  had  looked  forward  with  such  joy  to  seeing 
Mama  again.  As  soon  as  she  was  free  from  Ki- 
bungu  and  headed  toward  home  her  thoughts  were 
all  of  the  hoped-for  happy  meeting. 

Resting  before  Mbenza's  hut,  when  she  first 
reached  his  village,  she  had  told  the  gist  of  her  own 
tale  in  a  few  hasty,  broken  sentences,  and  then 
asked, 

"Where  is  Mama?" 

She  did  not  use  one  of  several  other  words  in 
common  use  for  mother,  but  said  simply  "Mama," 
which  is  the  same  word  how  ever  spelled  in  many 


w 

Wk 

■  .        w''-;  •■'',  "'' 

F- 

i 

Wi 

i 

'!'■, 

pM 

S 

^^^^ 

#■■■ 

^^^m>„:          -•— -               ~"»« 

W^6 

HKhHv 

■  "^'  ^ 

^Bl^ 

■ .'  l-'"-i 

An  Ordeal  of  Fire  49 

different  tongues.  Her  mother  would  always  re- 
main "Mama"  to  her. 

The  question,  although  the  first  and  most  natural 
one  to  be  expected,  produced  a  strange  effect  on 
Mbenza.  "She  is  dead,"  he  replied  in  an  embar- 
rassed way  that  was  unnoticed  by  Lelo. 

She  was  only  concerned  with  the  sad  news,  not 
with  him.  After  a  pause  she  faintly  asked,  in  the 
manner  the  Congolese  refer  to  the  dead, 

"Was  'she  that  was  my  mother'  sick  long?" 

"No — yes — that  is,  I  think  so — I  wasn't  here  at 
the  time,"  he  stammered. 

"When  did  she  die?" 

"Oh,  don't  let  us  talk  any  more  about  it,"  he  ob- 
jected; "me,  I  never  like  to  talk  about  the  dead. 
It's  unlucky." 

He  returned  only  evasive  answers  to  several 
other  anxious  and  reasonable  questions  in  regard  to 
the  circumstances  of  her  mother's  death,  and  the 
place  where  "she  that  was  her  mother"  was  buried. 
At  last  he  curtly  refused  to  say  any  more  on  the 
subject,  and  she  was  forced  to  remain  in  ignorance 
of  the  details  of  the  sad  event.  She  at  last  noticed 
his  hesitation  and  confusion,  but  attributed  it  only 
to  his  religious  convictions.  She  hid  the  matter 
deep  in  her  own  heart,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before 
she  could  even  speak  about  it  again  to  anyone. 

In  the  compound  living  in  a  hut  next  to  her  own 
was  a  woman  named  Mayala,  who  was  the  property 
of  Mavambu.     She  had  been  the  favorite  wife  of 


5o  A  Congo  Chattel 

the  last  important  Chief  of  the  district,  and  not  only 
had  she  seen  better  days,  but  she  was  more  than  or- 
dinarily intelligent.  She  had  enjoyed  some  distinc- 
tion in  the  neighborhood  because  of  her  position 
as  head  woman  of  such  a  Chief.  At  that  time  the 
place  was  a  well-populated  center;  it  had  not  been 
depopulated  by  sleeping  sickness,  rum,  and  other 
evils.  Mayala  had  been  taken  to  wife  by  Chief 
Noki  a  few  years  after  Lelo,  the  child,  had  been 
carried  off  to  Kibungu.  When  Noki  died  Mayala 
was  not  freed  from  matrimonial  bondage,  but  she 
became  the  "wife"  of  Mavambu,  as  his  portion  of 
the  estate. 

Mayala  was  kind  to  Lelo  and  the  babies,  and  they 
soon  became  fast  friends,  notwithstanding  the  dif- 
ference in  their  ages  and  disparity  of  rank  in  Ma- 
vambu's  household.  Nothing  of  any  consequence 
in  those  parts  had  happened  for  many  years  but 
what  Mayala  remembered  it.  She  knew  the  history 
of  the  people  also,  and  could  tell  what  had  become 
of  different  ones,  of  those  who  had  died,  or  had 
gone  to  other  parts,  and  where  they  were  if  alive. 

She  was  just  the  one  to  tell  Lelo  about  her 
mother.  When  the  latter  asked  Mayala  about  the 
matter  one  day,  she  was  startled  to  find  that  she  had 
broached  a  subject  that  was  very  distasteful  to 
the  older  woman.  This  fact  aroused  her  suspi- 
cions, and  made  her  anxious  to  know  more.  Lelo 
found  a  good  opportunity  soon  after  when  one 
afternoon   Mayala  crossed  her  field  on  her  way 


An  Ordeal  of  Fire  51 

home  from  work,  and  rested  for  a  moment  on  the 
huge  tree  that  had  been  cut  down  to  make  room 
for  a  bean  patch,  and  against  which  Lelo  was  lay- 
ing brushwood  for  the  beans  to  climb  upon. 

Lelo  stopped  working  and  squatted  close  to  the 
tree,  where  under  its  shelter  the  baby  was  quietly 
sleeping.  Little  Wumba  temporarily  relieved  of 
the  strain  of  taking  care  of  the  baby  was  amusing 
herself  by  pretending  to  be  gathering  food  and 
wood  and  water,  and  to  be  carrying  off  the  spoils  to 
her  imaginary  hut  to  cook  for  an  imaginary  man. 
Rather  serious  work  to  pass  for  play,  but  it  was  a 
common  game  for  the  children  of  Africa  who  for 
generations  had  been  thrust  into  a  playless,  miser- 
able, and  grown-up  world  of  hard,  barren  realities. 

The  sun  had  dropped  so  low  in  the  West  that  its 
power  for  that  day  was  no  longer  to  be  feared. 
Disappearing  behind  a  barricade  of  trees,  it  was 
shooting  narrow,  slanting  beams  of  heated  light 
through  the  open  places  between,  but  much  of 
Lelo's  patch  was  now  protected  by  welcome  shad- 
ows. Overhead  the  sky  was  delightfully  soft  and 
refreshing  to  her  worn  and  tired  eyes,  and  the 
dreamy,  cool  restfulness  of  the  brief  tropical  eve- 
ning after  a  long,  burning,  stifling  day  was  creeping 
languidly  on. 

Mayala  suggested  waiting  until  Lelo  had  gathered 
her  tools  and  picked  up  her  babies,  and  then  they 
would  go  home  together.  Lelo  agreed,  but  instead 
of  moving  to  pick  up  her  implements  began  to 


52  A  Congo  Chattel 

question  her  friend  upon  the  matter  that  was  so 
much  on  her  heart. 

"Mayala,"  said  she  without  warning,  looking  up 
pleadingly  into  her  friend's  face,  "I  wish  you 
would  tell  me  more  about  Mama/' 

"Nana,"  she  replied,  with  quick  and  positive 
emphasis  on  the  words  of  refusal,  "I  will  not." 

"But,  Mayala,  if  you  were  in  my  place,  you  too 
would  be  anxious  to  know  about  your  mother.  Why 
not  tell  me  about  mine?" 

"I  don't  want  to  talk  about  it !  Although  I  never 
did  believe  she  was  guilty  of  witchcraft." 

So  this  was  why  Mbenza  and  Mayala  had  refused 
to  talk  about  Lelo's  mother.  It  was  because  she 
had  been  accused  of  witchcraft,  and  perhaps — 
murdered!  It  was  a  blow,  but  not  altogether 
unexpected. 

After  she  had  begun  to  talk,  it  was  not  very 
difficult  to  persuade  Mayala  to  continue.  She  first 
pledged  Lelo  to  secrecy  "by  her  mother,"  an  oath 
that  would  not  be  lightly  broken.  She  revealed 
then  a  story  that  was  the  most  cruel  to  which  Lelo 
had  ever  listened.  She  hardly  lifted  her  eyes  after 
Mayala  began  to  speak,  but  crouched  nearer  to 
the  ground  and  drew  the  baby  closer  to  her  as  the 
brutal  narrative  was  unfolded. 

"I  was  with  Noki  at  the  fire  before  his  hut  when 
Koso  came  along  one  evening  and  sat  down.  We 
could  plainly  see  that  he  was  upset  about  some- 
thing, and.  it  was  not  long  before  he  blurted  out 


An  Ordeal  of  Fire  53 

his  trouble.  He  said  that  he  was  sure  your  mother 
was  a  witch. 

"I  felt  then  he  was  mistaken,  and  became  fully 
convinced  of  it  later.  Why,  when  they  did  poison 
her,  she  would  have  lived  through  a  day  and  have 
proven  her  innocence,  or  have  recovered  completely, 
if  they  had  not  crowded  around  her  and  seized 
her  when  she  began  to  stagger. 

"Noki,  he  didn't  say  much  one  way  or  the  other, 
but  Koso  was  sure  he  was  right,  and  went  on 
to  tell  of  several  suspicious  circumstances  he  had 
noticed.  He  was  anxious  to  find  out  what  Noki 
thought,  and  whether  he  approved  of  a  witch  hunt 
at  that  time. 

"Koso  said  there  had  been  some  sickness  in  his 
town  lately  and  that  this  had  first  aroused  his  sus- 
picions; then  that  very  evening  one  of  his  slaves 
had  fallen  from  a  palm  tree,  which  he  was  tapping 
for  wine,  into  the  thorny  brush  below,  and  was 
lying  with  an  arm  and  a  leg  broken,  and  the  flesh 
scratched  and  torn  away  from  one  side  of  his  body. 

"He  said  that  it  was  becoming  too  much  to  put 
up  with,  and  if  Malanda  died  he  would  be  revenged 
upon  the  witches  whoever  they  were,  whether  your 
mother  or  others. 

"Chief  Noki  replied  that  if  he  felt  that  way 
about  it  the  best  thing  for  him  to  do  would  be  to 
call  in  Nsakala  the  priest  who  lived  in  Kimbungu. 
He  said  that  there  was  no  better  man  in  the  whole 
district,  and  that  if  there  was  a  witch  in  Kinkoso 


54  A  Congo  Chattel 

he  would  'smell  it  out/  And  besides,  Nsakala's 
charges  were  always  moderate,  which,  said  Noki, 
was  no  light  consideration. 

"I  had  almost  forgotten  Koso's  visit,  when  a  few 
days  later  I  heard  Malanda  had  died,  and  that  on 
the  next  day  there  was  to  be  a  witch  hunt  in  his 
village. 

"For  me,  I  never  could  see  why  the  women  are  al- 
ways so  anxious  to  attend  a  witch  hunt.  I  went 
reluctantly,  and  only  because  it  was  the  customary 
thing  to  do.  Of  course  you  know  that  they  might 
have  said  that  I  myself  was  a  witch  if  I  had  stayed 
away. 

"It  was  nearly  noon  next  day  before  we  heard 
the  drum  beating  the  call,  and  announcing  the  ar- 
rival of  Nsakala.  It's  strange  how  that  sound 
makes  one  shiver.  There's  something  very  dread- 
ful about  the  noise  that  comes  from  a  witch-doctor's 
drum.  Nsakala  was  a  busy  man.  He  had  been 
working  on  a  case  in  a  town  some  miles  away  dur- 
ing the  early  morning,  and  that  was  what  made 
him  so  late  in  getting  started  at  Kinkoso. 

"There  was  a  big  crowd  gathered  in  the  four 
towns  on  this  side  of  the  valley,  and  they  were  not 
long  in  getting  together  in  Kinkoso  after  the  signal 
drum.  The  street  was  filled  with  people  when  I 
reached  there,  and  they  kept  coming  in  from  all 
directions. 

"It  wasn't  long  until  I  saw  the  nganga  come  out 
of  Koso's  hut  followed  by  the  Chief.     Nsakala's 


An  Ordeal  of  Fire  55 

bleared  eyes  rolled  wildly  as  he  looked  over  us  and 
all  around  him  to  note  who  was  there  and  see  how 
the  preparations  were  going.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
he  was  more  than  half  drunk. 

"He  had  his  witch  fetich  in  his  hand,  and  almost 
the  first  thing  that  he  said  when  he  shouted  at  us, 
and  held  it  up  to  view,  was  that  every  hanging  strip 
of  dirty  rag  dangling  from  the  nkisi  had  been  torn 
from  the  loin  cloth  of  some  witch  discovered  by 
him.  'Before  their  vile  bodies  were  thrown  into 
the  flames,'  boasted  he,  *I  took  my  trophy.' 

"He  was  frightful  to  look  upon,  with  his  painted 
face,  as  he  stood  shaking  his  rattle  to  emphasize 
his  shouted  threats  concerning  what  he  would  do  to 
the  witch  when  he  caught  it.  I  couldn't  help  think- 
ing how  I  should  feel  if  he  made  a  mistake,  being 
drunk,  and  happened  to  'point  me  out.'  I  would 
have  been  glad  then  to  sneak  behind  the  crowd,  or 
to  leave  the  town,  but  I  was  afraid  of  what  they 
would  say. 

"He  went  into  the  hut  which  they  had  prepared 
for  him,  to  consult  his  idol,  and  shut  the  door.  We 
remained  where  we  were,  talking  and  speculating 
as  to  who  would  be  'pointed  out'  by  him.  When 
he  did  appear,  we  were  all  drawn  up  on  both  sides 
of  the  street  in  two  rows,  intently  and  anxiously 
watching  Nsakala.  We  knew  that  we  were  inno- 
cent and  were  hoping  that  his  information  would 
agree  with  our  own  conviction  of  the  fact. 

"The  door  was  slammed  back,  and  with  a  roar, 


56  A  Congo  Chattel 

nkisi  in  hand,  he  jumped  into  the  open.  He  ran 
wildly  up  on  one  side  peering  into  the  faces  of  the 
crowd  and  down  on  the  other  as  if  seeking  the 
one  that  he  knew  was  guilty.  Yelling  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  jumping  into  the  air,  or  stopping  dead 
and  silent  in  his  tracks  to  glare  at  someone,  he  soon 
had  our  nerves  on  edge.  We  were  all  pretty  shaky, 
and  glad  to  see  him  stop  at  last  in  front  of  Koso*s 
big  house. 

"He  said  that  he  was  glad  to  announce  that  he 
had  not  been  called  in  vain,  that  there  was  indeed 
a  witch  in  Kinkoso,  even  in  the  very  town;  a 
reprobate  who  had,  without  interference  or  sus- 
picion, been  'eating*  the  people  for  a  long  time. 
In  a  solemn  voice  he  said  that  he  had  discovered  it 
to  be  the  same  witch  who  had  wickedly  caused  the 
accident  which  had  cost  Malanda  his  life. 

"A  howl  of  rage  went  up  from  the  assembled 
crowd,  in  which  I  joined,  of  course.  Such  a  howl 
was  enough  to  put  terror  into  the  heart  of  anyone 
dabbling  with  evil  spirits,  and  turn  him  from  such 
wicked  ways.  He  said  that  he  was  glad  there  were 
not  many  concerned  in  the  devilish  plot.  In  fact 
there  was  but  one,  and  that  he  had  succeeded  by 
superhuman  efforts  in  finding  out  who  it  was,  and 
that  furthermore  he  now  intended  to  announce  the 
cursed  name. 

"We  listened,  breathlessly  straining  to  hear  every 
word,  while  he  went  on  to  say  that  the  guilty  wretch 
was  a  woman!     That  took  the  pressure  from  the 


An  Ordeal  of  Fire  57 

men,  but  his  announcement  bore  down  more  heavily 
upon  us  women  who  were  left,  and  increased  our 
anxiety. 

"I  knew,  or  felt  I  knew,  from  what  had  been 
said  to  Noki  by  Koso,  that  I  could  myself  tell 
who  was  to  be  named.  Yet  I  wasn't  certain,  as  I 
couldn't  be  sure  of  what  revelations  the  spirits  had 
made  to  Nsakala  while  in  the  hut.  It  was  not 
much  longer  before  he  relieved  us  from  all  suspense 
by  saying  that  the  witch  was  your  mother.  He 
roared  her  name  at  the  top  of  his  mighty  voice." 

Mayala  paused  and  looked  at  Lelo,  waiting  for 
some  comment,  but  as  Lelo  did  not  move,  nor  lift 
her  head,  she  continued  her  story: 

"Your  mother  said  that  it  was  all  a  lie,  but 
Nsakala  answered  that  whether  true  or  false  the 
facts  would  be  known  the  next  day.  'Unless  my 
nkisi  has  deceived  me,'  said  he,  'you  are  ndoki'; 
but  your  mother  scornfully  denied  the  accusation 
and  cried  out  that  she  was  innocent. 

"They  arranged  to  go  away  into  that  old  clearing 
just  off  the  path  leading  over  the  bluff,  down  into 
the  little  valley  behind  Kimbenza.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  be  careful  then  in  giving  the  nkasa  cup,  on 
account  of  the  haNganga  Nzamhi  (Doctors  of 
God,  i.  e.,  the  name  given  by  natives  to  Protestant 
missionaries)  over  at  the  Vula  Station.  The  mis- 
sionaries had  begun  to  make  trouble  even  then,  and 
for  some  time  they  had  been  sticking  their  noses  into 
matters  of  that  kind  as  soon  as  they  heard  of  them. 


58  A  Congo  Chattel 

"Next  day  we  were  all  on  hand  again  at  Kinkoso. 
There  was  a  general  holiday  in  the  neighborhood. 
We  left  the  village  early  for  the  place  where  the 
poison  tea  was  to  be  given,  and  when  we  got  there 
I  saw  your  mother  sitting  on  the  ground  waiting. 
Nsakala  was  watching  closely  two  of  the  women 
who  had  been  appointed  to  grind  the  bark  and  help 
him  mix  the  test  cup. 

"When  the  time  came,  your  mother  stood  up 
at  the  command  of  the  priest,  and  took  the  cup 
from  the  hand  of  one  of  the  women  who  had 
stirred  it.  She  held  it  in  both  hands  while  he  again 
charged  her  with  being  a  witch,  and  called  upon 
his  nkisi  to  prove  her  guilt  in  the  sight  of  all  her 
outraged  neighbors,  if  she  was  indeed  ndoki. 

"There  was  hardly  a  movement  then,  we  were 
all  so  quiet  that  we  could  hear  the  dripping  of  the 
heavy  morning  mist  falling  from  leaf  to  leaf  and 
pattering  to  the  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  trees 
along  the  edge  of  the  clearing.  It  was  a  dismal 
morning  with  that  dark  sullen  gray  sky  bearing 
down  and  penetrating  our  hearts  with  its  chilling 
gloom.  We  shivered  and  wished  the  trial  would 
end,  so  that  we  could  run  and  walk,  and  get  back 
to  our  work  or  huts  with  their  comfortable  fires. 

"With  the  big  wooden  cup  in  her  hands,  that 
meant  so  much  to  her  for  good  or  evil,  for  life  or 
death,  your  mother  stood  silently  and  waited  until 
Nsakala's  charge  was  finished  when  he  ordered  her 
to  drink. 


An  Ordeal  of  Fire  59 

"She  was  so  different  from  that  awful  old  witch 
that  was  killed  last  month,  'who  called  herself  while 
living'  Lengo.  I  never  saw  anyone  act  so  crazy ; 
she  cried  and  howled  about  her  children  all  the  time. 
She  should  have  thought  about  her  children  before 
she  entered  into  such  an  awful  compact.  Her 
children  are  much  better  off  now  than  they  ever 
could  have  been  with  her,  learning  all  kinds  of  for- 
bidden things.  You  were  there  when  she  died, 
weren't  you?" 

Lelo  hardly  seemed  to  hear  what  Mayala  said 
about  the  other  woman.  She  made  no  reply  to 
the  question,  so  Mayala  continued. 

"Your  mother  said  never  a  word  to  Nsakala,  nor 
looked  around  at  any  of  us.  She  lifted  the  mug, 
held  it  to  her  lips  with  both  hands,  and  though  it 
almost  choked  her^  drained  it  of  the  nasty  mixture." 

"Go  on,"  said  Lelo  hoarsely,  moistening  her  dry 
lips  with  her  tongue  when  Mayala  paused. 

"Well,  she  died.  But  I  think  she  would  have 
lived  if  some  of  Koso's  men  and  Malanda's  rela- 
tives had  not  crowded  in  around  her  and  seized  her 
as  soon  as  she  staggered.  After  that  it  was  not 
really  possible  to  tell  whether  she  had  fallen  from 
the  effects  of  the  poison,  or  because  of  a  blow  dealt 
her  in  the  scuffle.  For  me,  I  always  did  believe  that 
she  would  have  lived  through  it,  if  only  for  a  day, 
long  enough  to  prove  anyway  that  she  was  innocent 
of  the  charge  made  against  her.     There  isn't  much 


6o  A  Congo  Chattel 

more  to  tell,"  Mayala  concluded  hesitatingly,  "and 
it's  getting  late." 

"Finish  it  now;  tell  me  all,  Mayala,  and  I  will 
never  trouble  you  again.     How  did  she  die?" 

"Well,  when  she  was  on  the  ground  at  last,  Koso 
and  Nsakala  and  others  began  to  shout  that  the 
witch  had  been  caught,  and  soon  the  whole  crowd 
took  up  their  triumphant  cry.  The  noise  was  heard 
by  everybody  for  a  long  distance  in  every  direction. 
If  any  others  felt  like  me,  they  also  wisely  kept  it 
to  themselves,  for  that  was  not  the  time  for  argu- 
ment. What  could  anyone  do?  They  were  like 
wild  beasts  of  the  forest  with  their  prey  in  their 
clutches. 

"She  screamed  loudly  at  first  with  the  pain,  from 
the  nkasa  and  the  blows,  and  then  she  lay  moaning 
and  crying  feebly,  saying  that  she  was  innocent  and 
that  she  was  indeed  an  honest  woman.  Nobody 
listened  much  to  her;  only  the  two  or  three  that 
stood  guard  over  her  body  paid  any  attention  to 
what  she  said. 

"The  crowd  scattered  and  ran  to  the  edge  of  the 
clearing,  soon  returning,  each  one  with  a  big  stick 
or  an  armful  of  wood.  Koso  pointed  to  a  big  tree 
which  has  since  fallen  and  long  ago  been  eaten  by 
ants;  and  there  they  threw  their  burdens  down  at 
its  foot.  There  were  two  high,  narrow,  big  roots 
growing  from  the  trunk  outside  the  ground,  and 
they  formed  a  kind  of  fireplace.  Several  burning 
brands  had  thoughtfully  been  brought  along  from 


An  Ordeal  of  Fire  6i 

Kinkoso,  for  use  if  needed;  they  would  serve  to 
light  pipes,  if  not  a  pyre.  With  these  a  fire  was 
soon  started  and  began  to  blaze  up  along  the  great 
tree  trunk. 

"They  lifted  your  mother,  her  arms  and  legs 
bound  with  strong  vines,  and  carried  her,  crying 
and  pleading  her  innocence,  and  threw  her  on  top 
of  the  burning  faggots." 

Mayala  stopped,  and  wondered  whether  she  ought 
to  conclude  the  horrible  story.  Lelo  took  up  the 
baby,  and  pressed  him  convulsively  to  her  breast. 
Mayala  was  silent  for  a  moment,  thinking  of  that 
culmination  of  horror  she  had  witnessed,  and  then 
suddenly  as  if  speaking  for  her  own  relief,  almost 
forgetting  to  whom  she  was  telling  the  tale,  she 
concluded : 

"After  they  had  thrown  her  bound  body  upon  the 
blazing  pile,  something  strange  happened,  something 
that  made  an  impression  upon  even  the  most  hard- 
ened among  the  yelling  crowd.  When  death  had 
mercifully  closed  her  terror-haunted  eyes,  and  her 
features  had  relaxed  into  the  peace  that  follows  re- 
lease from  pain,  we  saw  through  her  gaping  side 
what  your  mother  had  been  hoping  to  look  upon 
with  joy  in  a  few  more  weeks.  The  unborn  child 
and  mother  were  both  quickly  consumed,  all  except 
a  few  large  bones  which  had  fallen  over  to  one  side. 

"These  dried  and  whitened  and  crumbled  slowly 
away,  and  were  buried  at  last,  along  with  the  fallen 
tree  itself,  under  a  dense  mass  of  grasses  and  ferns. 


62  A  Congo  Chattel 

which  grew  into  the  mound  around  which  the  new 
path  now  curves. 

"Come,  Lelo,  it  is  time  to  go.  What  is  past  we 
cannot  help  now." 

Lelo  mutely  shook  her  bowed  head,  and 
motioned  her  friend  to  leave  her.  She  wanted  to 
be  alone.  Mayala  turned  and  walked  slowly  away 
in  the  swiftly  falling  darkness  toward  the  village. 
Little  Wumba,  noting  the  departure  of  Mayala  and 
feeling  the  chill  of  advancing  night,  came  to  rouse 
her  mother. 

Clasping  her  mother  about  the  neck  and  trying  to 
lift  her  head,  she  said,  "Mama,  I  want  to  go  to  the 
village.*' 

Lelo  raised  her  face  and  the  little  one  buried  -her 
head  upon  her  mother's  breast  in  sympathy.  She 
knew  that  something  was  wrong  and  that  Mama 
needed  help.  Lelo  arose  slowly  and  taking  the  child 
by  the  hand  turned  toward  their  home.  The  little 
arms  had  given  more  help  than  they  knew,  they  had 
released  the  awful  weight  on  mother's  heart. 

A  tear,  unnoticed  in  the  deepening  shadows  save 
by  the  all-seeing  eye  of  Him  Who  knows  that  such 
as  Lelo  have  hearts,  and  Who  understands  their 
needs,  rolled  slowly  down  her  ashy,  drawn  face,  and 
fell  upon  the  head  of  the  helpless  mite  clasped  to 
her  breast. 

A  bitter  tribute  exacted  by  the  enemy.  Another 
tear  toward  the  filling  of  the  cup  of  the  heathen 


An  Ordeal  of  Fire  63 

woman's  woe.  A  tear  wrung  from  a  wounded 
heart  by  a  barbarous,  heathen  religion,  and  inex- 
cusable Christian  neglect. 


CHAPTER  V. 
A  Digression  on  a  Horse. 

CHE  purpose  of  this  digression  is  to  get 
away  from  the  atmosphere  of  the  revolt- 
ing tale  of  the  death  of  Lelo's  mother, 
and  to  leave  for  the  time  being  the  scenes  of  her 
own  miserable  life,  and  so  find  relief  by  taking  a 
journey  to  far-distant  places.  Lelo's  country  had 
never  produced  a  horse.  No  horse  can  be  found  in 
Mayombe,  and  as  a  horse  is  absolutely  essential  to 
the  success  of  the  journey,  it  becomes  necessary  to 
leave  tropical  Congo  and  visit  North  America  in  the 
freezing  month  of  February. 

The  horse  of  this  excursus  is  brought  into  the 
narrative  by  a  lady  who  came  to  attend  a  missionary 
meeting  that  was  being  addressed  by  a  Congo  mis- 
sionary on  leave.  Seeking  to  interest  people  at 
home  in  his  work  among  the  heathen  and  to  secure 
their  co-operation,  to  what  better  place  could  he 
go  than  to  a  church?  Mr.  Missionary  was  glad  to 
avail  himself  of  the  invitation  to  address  the  con- 
gregation on  the  subject  of  his  field  and  work,  and 
felt  that  he  was  among  friends  when  he  reached  the 
platform. 

It  was  a  magnificent  church  building,  much  better 
than  the  sunburned  brick,  grass-roofed  places  of 


-^m^mm 


^^m:  .    «^ 


WITCH-DOCTOR    PERFORMING 


DECORATIONS      ON      GRAVE.         IDOLS,      GUNPOWDER 

KEGS,  CROCKERY,  AND  PERIODICALS  PICKED  UP 

ON  THE  COAST  OF  WEST  AFRICA — PINNED 

TO   STRIPED   BLANKET 


A  Digression  on  a  Horse  65 

worship  in  the  Congo.  The  decorations  and  fittings 
alone  had  cost  a  great  many  thousands  of  dollars 
and  were  most  elaborate  and  luxurious.  The  pew 
cushions  were  delightfully  soft  and  sleep-inducing, 
and  Mr.  Missionary  could  not  help  but  think  how 
nice  it  would  be  to  have  such  a  place  to  crawl  into 
after  a  long,  hard  day  tramping  through  the  tropical 
jungle.  Not  that  he  would  have  taken  advantage 
of  such  a  fine  opportunity  with  his  grimy,  travel- 
stained  garments  I 

The  congregation  was  made  up  of  well-dressed, 
well-fed  and  well-educated  people,  evidently  in  com- 
fortable circumstances.  They  appeared  to  be  much 
interested  in  the  story  from  the  Congo,  and  gave 
earnest  attention  to  the  message  and  to  the  plea 
made  for  the  miserable  people  whom  the  missionary 
represented. 

There  was  deep  feeling  in  Mr.  Missionary's  voice 
and  a  mist  before  his  eyes  as  he  surveyed  that  fash- 
ionable congregation.  He  compared  them  with  his 
own  people,  and  thought  of  the  difficulty  of  finding 
the  right  matters  to  touch  upon,  in  order  to  make 
them  understand  the  depths  of  destitution  and  need 
he  intended  to  portray. 

Seeing  them  so  well-groomed  and  happy-looking, 
it  was  hard  to  keep  back  the  tears.  He  was  not  in- 
clined to  cry  because  of  their  comfort  and  pros- 
perity, but  his  tears  were  rather  for  his  African 
flock  in  all  their  misery  and  need,  sunk  as  they  were 
in  the  depths  of  sin. 


66  A  Congo  Chattel 

Missionaries  generally  keep  their  tears  for  the 
homeland;  they  don't  cry  much  when  about  their 
heart-breaking  work. 

It  is  necessary  for  the  missionary  sometimes  to 
get  away  from  his  field  of  labor  and  the  hardening 
everyday  scenes  of  spiritual  and  physical  degrada- 
tion that  he  encounters  in  his  heathen  parish.  The 
contrasts  in  the  homeland  are  so  marked  that  the 
dire  needs  of  his  own  suffering  people  assume  a 
greater  urgency. 

On  that  particular  night,  Mr.  Missionary,  with 
aching  heart,  was  himself  so  deeply  stirred  with 
the  need  of  Lelo's  oppressed  kind,  that  it  appeared 
as  if  the  congregation  simply  could  not  but  see  eye 
to  eye  with  him,  and  that  there  must  be  a  generous 
response  to  the  appeal  on  behalf  of  the  oppressed 
Congo  natives  also,  in  missionaries,  volunteers,  and 
in  the  necessary  financial  assistance. 

In  the  course  of  his  message  he  dwelt  at  some 
length  on  the  physical  destitution  and  the  inhuman 
treatment  by  which  so  many  were  being  brutalized 
and  destroyed,  soul  and  body.  It  becomes  neces- 
sary sometimes  to  speak  of  matters  of  which  many 
people  would  rather  remain  in  ignorance. 

Mr.  Missionary  told  the  congregation  of  meet- 
ing a  woman  who  lived  in  a  village  close  to  the 
Mission.  She  had  been  accused  of  witchcraft,  and 
had  fled  to  the  Station  for  protection.  She  was  not 
more  than  twenty-five  years  of  age,  soft  of  speech. 


A  Digression  on  a  Horse  67 

and  attractive.  Her  four  sturdy  boys  ranged  from 
two  to  ten  years  of  age. 

He  related  that  when  he  and  Mrs.  Missionary 
heard  of  the  accusation,  they  were  sympathetic  and 
indignant.  They  endeavored  to  persuade  her  to  re- 
sist the  poison  test,  if  only  for  the  children's  sake. 

"Mfumu,"  sobbed  she,  holding  the  youngest  in 
her  arms,  while  the  others  cuddled  at  her  feet  on 
a  mat  spread  on  the  veranda  floor,  "they  call  me 
ndokir 

"What?     Call  you  a  witch r 

"Yes.  I  was  pointed  out  this  morning,  and  they 
say  that  I  must  drink  nkasa  tomorrow !" 

"But  you  know  that  you  are  not  a  witch  ?" 

"Truly,  I  know  that." 

"And  do  you  want  to  die  ?" 

She  shivered,  although  there  was  no  chill  in  the 
hot  noontide;  and  cried  softly  as  she  looked  from 
one  to  the  other  of  her  little  family. 

"If  I  were  you,"  Mr.  Missionary  said  he  had  ad- 
vised her,  "I  wouldn't  take  that  vile  dose  of  poison 
for  them.     What  will  become  of  your  babies  ?" 

"What  can  I  do  ?  They  will  beat  me  to  death  if 
I  refuse!'* 

"Refuse  by  staying  here;  they  can't  kill  you  if 
you  don't  go  back  to  them !" 

"Would  you  let  us  live  here?" 

"Yes.  And  they  will  not  try  to  molest  yOu  while 
you  are  with  us." 

He  said  that  she  seemed,  as  no  doubt  she  was, 


68  A  Congo  Chattel 

deeply  grateful.  A  little  hut  was  allotted  to  them, 
and  for  a  few  days  the  refugees  were  safe.  No 
force  was  used  to  take  her  from  the  Vula,  nor  did 
anyone  even  enter  the  place  to  threaten  her.  The 
women  nevertheless  employed  effective  means  to 
draw  her  away  and  at  last  they  succeeded. 

Passing  along  the  public  path  that  skirted  the 
premises,  they  sometimes  stopped  opposite  the  hut 
where  the  unfortunate  mother  was  living.  Or  else 
maybe  they  saw  her  moving  about  somewhere 
within  earshot.     Then  they  began  to  cry: 

"Look  at  the  witch!  Oh,  the  vile  wretch!  Of 
course  she  is  a  witch,  else  she  would  not  have  run 
away.  She  is  afraid  because  she  is  guilty.  If  she 
were  honest,  she  would  be  glad  to  drink  nkasa. 
She  fled  to  the  mindele  because  they  are  witches 
too.  Let  her  stay,  she  can  never  come  back  to  us. 
Yes,  let  her  work  out  her  deviltry  at  the  Vula. 
Behold  the  shameless  renegade !" 

After  much  more  jibing  in  a  similar  strain,  they 
filed  away  along  the  path,  howling  derisively.  They 
came  back  again  and  again,  and  repeated  the  in- 
sults. They  always  moved  off,  said  Mr.  Mission- 
ary, when  either  Mrs.  Missionary  or  he  went  out 
to  protest  against  their  conduct. 

The  strain  of  ostracism  proved  too  much  for  the 
afflicted  mother.  The  false  accusations,  together 
with  the  jeers  and  contemptuous  treatment,  so  un- 
settled her  mind  that  she  became  desperate.  She 
made  her  decision  secretly,  and  determined  to  show 


A  Digression  on  a  Horse  69 

her  little  world  that  she  was  as  good  as  any  of  them. 
Somehow  her  fears  had  been  all  for  her  children, 
and  it  was  to  save  them  that  she  had  left  her  village. 
She  would  take  the  test  then,  and  so  make  them 
ashamed  of  the  cruel  way  they  had  treated  her  and 
the  babies,  when  they  saw  the  result.  She  must 
resume  her  place  in  society.  It  was  necessary  for 
the  children's  sake;  they  had  been  outcasts  long 
enough.  Her  decision  was  made  and  her  plans 
carried  out  quietly.  She  passed  the  word  out  to 
the  headmen  of  the  village.  She  said  that  she 
would  be  ready  at  a  certain  time  and  place  to  under- 
go the  ordeal.  All  was  duly  prepared  for  her 
by  willing  hands,  and  they  awaited  her  arrival 
with  impatience. 

Mr.  Missionary  told  how  she  had  quietly  left 
the  hut  at  daybreak,  without  disturbing  the  babies. 
She  would  not  run  the  risk  of  awakening  them 
by  touching  them  as  they  lay,  and  have  to  answer 
embarrassing  questions.  She  would  be  back  soon, 
she  hoped.  Then  how  happy  they  all  would  be, 
as  they  returned  together  proudly  and  victoriously 
to  their  own  town  and  people.  She  hesitated  in 
closing  the  door,  and  looked  upon  them.  It  was 
for  the  last  time.  She  never  returned.  The 
nkasa  cup  had  been  too  well  mixed  that  morning. 

The  babies  were  heartbroken  when  they  heard 
about  their  mother's  sad  end.  An  unfeeling 
woman  hastened  to  give  them  the — to  her  cheer- 
ing— news,  as  soon  as  the  affair  was  over.     The 


70  A  Congo  Chattel 

oldest  boy  was  beside  himself  in  an  agony  of 
grief  and  helpless  rage. 

"Mama  is  dead.  Mama  is  dead !"  he  cried.  And 
the  other  little  ones  wailed  in  a  heartbroken  way. 
They  followed  the  elder  boy,  all  making  their 
way  toward  the  house  to  inform  Mrs.  Missionary 
of  the  tragedy. 

The  jeering  women  walked  another  path  that 
day ;  their  work  at  the  Vula  was  done. 

That  instance,  briefly  told,  was  only  one  of  sev- 
eral used  by  Mr.  Missionary  in  illustrating  his 
text, — "The  dark  places  of  the  earth  are  full  of 
the  habitations  of  cruelty."  Such  stories  of  the 
heathen  world  were  not  pleasant  for  the  congre- 
gation to  listen  to,  seated  so  snugly  in  their  com- 
fortable church  that  night,  but  then,  the  victims 
mentioned  in  these  incidents  found  the  actual  ex- 
periences considerably  harder  to  bear. 

At  the  close  of  the  service,  several  people  came 
forward,  took  Mr.  Missionary  by  the  hand,  and 
wished  him  Godspeed  and  success  in  his  work. 
Among  the  first  to  reach  the  platform,  elbowing 
her  way,  was  a  well-dressed  lady  of  refined  ap- 
pearance, who  seemed  to  be  in  a  hurry  to  speak. 
Mr.  Missionary,  if  the  matter  occurred  to  him  at 
all,  may  have  thought  that  her  heart  was  so  deeply 
moved  by  the  needs  brought  to  her  attention  that 
she  was  hastening  to  offer  herself  and  her  purse 
for  the  alleviation  of  heathen  misery,  and  to  bring 
them  to  a  knowledge  of  the  world's  great  Healer. 


A  Digression  on  a  Horse  71 

"I  was  greatly  interested,"  she  remarked  in  a 
polite  and  quiet  way,  "in  the  account  you  gave  of 
the  wretched  conditions  in  your  field." 

Mr.  Missionary  bowed  in  acknowledgment,  not 
having  any  better  reply  on  hand.  He  was  tired 
after  the  evening's  effort  and  felt  worn  and  weary, 
having  thrown  his  whole  force  into  the  address  and 
missionary  appeal. 

"But,  is  it  really  possible  to  help  such  degraded 
people?"  the  lady  continued. 

She  hardly  expected  an  answer  to  her  question, 
which  was  evidently  put  in  a  spirit  of  skepticism. 
The  rising  inflection  and  slight  pause  were  pos- 
sibly a  concession  to  Mr.  Missionary's  extreme 
views. 

"God  is  no  respector  of  persons.  The  Gospel  is 
sent  to  the  base  and  despised,"  replied  Mr.  Mis- 
sionary, becoming  interested  and  aroused  by  the 
"but"  in  the  lady's  question. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  dare  say.  But  fancy  such  cold- 
blooded murderers.  It  really  upset  me  to  listen  to 
the  story  of  that  wretched  woman  with  the  chil- 
dren," She  made  a  gesture  to  indicate  her  repug- 
nance of  such  vile  people  and  their  inhuman  deeds. 

"It  has  upset  others  before  you,  madam,  the  mur- 
dered woman's  children  to  begin  with.  God  has 
done  great  things  among  those  poor  people.  In 
some  of  them  the  Spirit  of  Christ  now  truly  lives 
and  works." 

"Really  ?"  she  replied  almost  with  indifference  as 


^2.  A  Congo  Chattel 

if  she  had  a  far  more  pressing  matter  at  heart  than 
the  salvation  of  those  in  heathen  darkness. 

"Among  the  Congolese,"  Mr.  Missionary  went 
on  to  explain,  "are  too  principal  classes,  such  as 
are  to  be  found  among  nearly  all  peoples.  Not  all 
black-skinned  are  black-souled.  Some  in  the 
Mayombe  have  souls  as  white  and  noble  as  any  that 
God  has  ever  fashioned  to  adorn  His  earthly  king- 
dom. Just  as  among  the  civilized  people  here, 
there  are  souls  yonder  whose  blackness  matches 
the  blackness  of  hell." 

The  good  lady  suddently  veers,  the  wind  is  tak- 
ing her  into  deep  waters  and  is  heading  her  away 
from  her  desired  haven.  Besides,  "murder"  and 
"hell"  are  vulgar  words  and  distasteful  to  her  re- 
fined sense.  She  is  not  accustomed  to  the  use  of 
such  terms. 

"There  is  one  thing  I  noticed  in  your  address. 
You  endeavored,  it  seemed  to  me,  to  impress  upon 
us  strongly  that  we  all  shared  equal  responsibility 
in  efforts  to  uplift  and  help  those  poor  Africans." 
She  spoke  as  if  begging  politely  to  be  allowed  to 
differ  with  Mr.  Missionary  in  his  views  of  heathen 
needs. 

He  could  only  reply  in  effect  that  the  good  lady 
had  correctly  interpreted  his  intentions.  He  had 
agaih  grown  weary  following  this  conversation  and 
there  were  others  waiting  to  say  a  word.  The  good 
lady  seemed  forgetful  of  the  fact  that  she  was  tak- 
ing the  few  brief  moments  that  remained  to  Mr. 


A  Digression  on  a  Horse  .    73 

Missionary  before  the  congregation  dispersed  to 
their  homes  and  the  impatient  sexton  extinguished 
the  lights. 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  possibly  to  prepare 
Mr.  Missionary  for  her  indictment,  and  to  add 
weight  to  the  forceful  truth  of  the  lesson  which  she 
had  hastened  to  bring,  and  then  said  with  some 
asperity,  "But  you  forget,  sir,  that  we  have  our  own 
work  to  do !" 

No,  she  was  in  error.  He  had  not  forgotten,  how- 
ever his  words  may  have  sounded,  that  there  was 
work  to  do  at  home.  Good  work  and  great  work, 
some  of  which  made  his  own  work  abroad  possible. 
He  had  not  asked  in  his  address  to  have  the  home 
work  overlooked  or  set  aside,  but  had  simply  en- 
deavored to  emphasize  the  truth  that  every  Chris- 
tian ought  to  be  concerned  in  the  work  in  the  re- 
gions beyond.  And  that  such  concern  should  be 
in  addition  to  ordinary  church  work  and  any  phil- 
anthropic interests. 

Mr.  Missionary  had  contended  that  everyone  who 
professed  to  love  the  unseen  Christ  should  love  also 
the  unknown  peoples  for  whom  He  had  died,  as  well 
as  those  who  passed  daily  before  them  in  the  home- 
land. He  said  that  much  of  the  time  and  money 
devoted  to  work  of  comparatively  trifling  im- 
portance ought  to  be  used  for  the  uplift  of  those 
unhappy  souls  who  in  the  dark  places  of  the  earth 
were  so  greatly  oppressed. 

All  along  he  had  well  remembered  the  absolutely 


74  A  Congo  Chattel 

important  phases  of  Christian  effort  to  which  so 
many  were  giving  their  Hves  at  home.  His  purpose 
had  not  been  either  to  belittle  the  noble  workers  or 
to  reflect  invidiously  upon  the  good  work  in  which 
they  were  so  unselfishly  engaged.  He  knew  that 
there  were  many  worthy  causes  not  so  denominated, 
or  that  were  directly  Christian,  that  required  the 
time  and  attention  of  a  number  of  good,  philan- 
thropic people.  He  had  not  meant  that  everybody 
should  get  up  and  leave  everything  else  to  take  part 
in  foreign  work  exclusively. 

"Perhaps,  madam,  I  did  speak  strongly,"  he 
wearily  observed,  "and  possibly  I  may,  in  my  haste, 
have  stupidly  failed  to  make  myself  clear.  I  honor 
all.  who  are  laboring  in  every  part  of  the  great 
world  field,  and  realize  that  much  of  the  work  of 
others  is  as  indispensable  as  mine."  And  then  as 
the  lady  lingered,  he  absently  inquired,  more  in 
courtesy  than  for  any  other  reason,  as  he  was  dead 
tired,  and  would  much  rather  have  gone  to  his  rest 
than  continue  the  conversation,  "May  I  ask, 
madam,  in  what  kind  of  Christian  work  you  are 
engaged  ?" 

Over  and  over  in  his  tired  mind,  a  number  of 
questions  were  turning  with  nervous  rapidity.  Even 
while  he  had  been  addressing  the  congregation, 
with  treadmill  monotony  these  queries  were  insist- 
ently repeated,  why?  why?  why? 

"Why  should  a  tender,  loving,  black-skinned 
child  like  Lelo,  thousands  of  miles  away,  be  torn 


A  Digression  on  a  Horse  75 

from  her  mother's  arms,  and  sold  off  into  vile  bond- 
age, while  white  children  'at  home*  were  exempt 
from  such  treatment?" 

"Why  should  mothers  'at  home'  be  allowed  to 
rear  and  care  for  their  own,  while  across  the  sea 
Lelo's  mother,  and  the  multitudes  like  her,  have 
their  children  snatched  away  and  disposed  of  like 
mere  inanimate  chattels?" 

"Why  should  slavery  be  allowed  to  go  on  under 
the  African  sun,  in  the  blaze  of  today's  knowledge 
'at  home'?" 

"Why  should  any  woman  'at  home'  have  all  of 
life's  privileges  and  blessings,  while  nearly  all 
women  on  the  Dark  Continent  are  denied  all  that 
makes  life  worth  living,  and  are  forced  to  exist  in 
squalid  misery?" 

"Why  was  there  such  a  lack  of  interest  and  so 
much  inaction,  with  people  saying  everywhere  that 
'slavery  is  finished'  and  that  'there's  enough  to  do 
at  home,'  and  practically  denying  that  God  hath 
made  all  of  one  blood,  and  redeemed  all  by  the  blood 
of  His  Son?" 

"Why  should  he,  and  other  missionaries  like  him, 
faint  under  the  burden  of  a  woeful,  helpless  people 
abroad,  while  professors  of  Christianity  and  pro- 
fessed philanthropists  at  home  be  exempt  from  any 
real  responsibility,  freeing  themselves  inconsistent- 
ly by  paying  some  trifling  tax  on  income?" 

"Why  was  it  that  God's  people  could  not  see 
that  'laymen,'   'missionaries'  and  'ministers'  were 


76  A  Congo  Chattel 

only  man-made  words ;  that  all  Christians  are  mem- 
bers of  His  body,  and  upon  all  devolves  burden- 
bearing  responsibilities  as  well  as  equal  privileges, 
at  home  and  abroad?" 

"Why  was  it  that  so  many  Christians,  not  to 
mention  the  humanitarians  and  professing  Chris- 
tians, have  so  little  heart  for  Lelo  and  her  kind, 
and  are  so  careless  concerning  the  indescribably  sad 
lot  of  those  dwellers  in  darkness,  failing  to  see  their 
needs  and  concerned  only  about  a  hundred  and  one 
matters  of  trifling  consequence  *at  home'?" 

"Why  was  it  so  hard  to  make  people  'at  home' 
understand,  to  inspire  them  to  activity;  why  could 
he  not  tell  the  story  of  Africa  better,  and  make  vivid 
to  them  what  was  so  real  to  his  own  heart?" 

Mr.  Missionary  was  tired,  mentally  as  well  as 
physically,  and  ought  to  have  had  somebody  to  en- 
courage and  stir  him  to  greater  eifort  and  more 
consistent  living,  instead  of  trying  to  enthuse  and 
inspire  others.  He  needed  rest  after  a  strength- 
consuming  missionary  service.  Involuntarily  he 
shivered  as  he  thought  of  the  long  trolley  journey, 
through  a  freezing,  sleety  night,  that  lay  between 
himself  and  his  warm  quarters.  His  question  was 
offered  politely,  but  perfunctorily. 

"In  what  kind  of  Christian  work  are  you  en- 
gaged?" 

His  attention  was  immediately  drawn  to  the  lady 
again  because  of  the  very  evident  embarrassment 
that   was   produced   by  the  simple   inquiry.    She 


A  Digression  on  a  Horse  y*j 

probably  had  not  anticipated  answering  any  ques- 
tions about  herself,  and  had  not  come  prepared, 
being  preoccupied  with  the  error  into  which  Mr. 
Missionary  had  allowed  himself  to  fall  during  the 
course  of  his  address. 

She  nervously  adjusted  the  umbrella  which  she 
held,  looked  up  from  it  to  speak,  but  hesitated. 
Seemingly  she  was  obliged  to  search  diligently  in 
her  mental  vocabulary  for  more  suitable  expres- 
sions. Stammering  at  last  as  if  not  altogether  cer- 
tain as  to  what  she  wanted  to  say,  she  ventured, 

"Well,  at  present  I  am  interested  in  a  Society — " 
then  followed  a  slight  pause. 

Mr.  Missionary's  attention  was  attracted  by  the 
hopeful  word  "Society,"  and  he  waited  for  more. 

"A  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty — "  she 
slowly  went  on  to  explain,  before  there  was  another 
Hngering  pause. 

Mr.  Missionary  manifests  increasing  concern. 
Through  his  mind  like  a  flash  went  the  cheering 
thought :  She  is  a  member  of  some  Society  for  the 
protection  of  aboriginal  races  or  something  of  the 
kind,  and  is  rather  diffident  about  speaking  of  her- 
self and  her  own  work. 

With  somewhat  of  an  effort  and  with  heightened 
color,  the  good  lady  ejaculated  in  conclusion: 
"Cruelty  to  Horses." 

Horses?  "A  Society  for  the  Prevention  of 
Cruelty  to  Horses."  Was  this  the  work  she  had 
to  do  that  was  so  important,  so  exacting?    Was 


78  A  Congo  Chattel    ' 

this  the  work  that  demanded  so  much  of  her  life 
"at  home,"  that  she  could  only  spare  a  little  indigna- 
tion for  the  work  of  others  that  had  been  obtruded 
upon  her  attention? 

When  Mr.  Missionary  had  sufficiently  recovered 
from  the  shock,  and  was  on  his  way  to  his  quarters, 
he  thought  of  many  more  things.  He  had  been 
pouring  out  his  heart  over  the  crying  needs  of 
human  beings  with  souls.  He  had  been  talking  that 
night  about  people  who  were  more  cruelly  abused 
by  religious  and  social  customs  than  any  horse 
was  treated  in  civilized  lands.  Why  was  it  that 
some  were  more  concerned  about  animals  than 
human  beings?  Was  it  because  the  horses  were 
near  at  hand  and  tangible,  and  could  be  reached  and 
helped  with  little  expense  and  effort;  while  the 
Lelos  were  far  away,  and  much  money  and  many 
lives  were  needed  to  give  them  the  help  they  re- 
quired ? 

Horses  were  not  treated  at  home  as  Lelo's  mother 
had  been  used  in  Africa.  Certainly  horses  are 
deserving  of  consideration  and  ought  to  be  protected 
from  violence  and  neglect.  Not  but  that  horses 
should  be  "unchecked"  on  hills,  and  well  fed,  and 
spoken  to  kindly,  and  that  whips  should  be  laid 
aside.  Not  but  that  the  brutes  that  ill-treated 
horses  should  fail  to  be  haled  to  court  and  pun- 
ished. But  should  Lelo  and  her  kind  be  left  un- 
cared  for  in  their  sad  and  deplorable  condition,  a 
prey  to  ravening  brutes  ? 


A  Digression  on  a  Horse  79 

Horses  do  feel  it  when  they  are  abused,  but  not 
quite  in  the  way  that  Lelo  felt  when  she  was  roughly 
pulled  from  her  mother*s  arms  and  thrust  into  the 
hands  of  a  slaver;  and  not  as  Lelo's  mother  felt 
when  she  was  cruelly  dragged  away  to  her  funeral 
pyre;  nor  in  the  sense  that  Lelo  felt  when  she  lis- 
tened to  the  horrible  recital  of  that  deed. 

Lelo  and  her  kind  are  different  from  other  ani- 
mals in  that  they  possess  souls  to  suffer,  or  to  be 
happy,  eternally;  and  that  do  suffer  now  keenly 
from  other  causes  than  lack  of  food  and  harsh  treat- 
ment. 

Lelo  had  never  seen  a  horse,  and  knew  nothing 
of  their  hard  lot  "at  home,"  but  Mr.  Missionary 
saw  horses  and  several  other  kinds  of  animals  that 
night.  He  suffered  from  a  nightmare  trying  to 
solve  his  perplexing  problems  and  answer  his  own 
questions. 

Among  other  remarkable  things  he  saw  in  his 
dreams  a  handsomely  gowned  woman  leading  a 
well-groomed  horse  into  a  lush  summer  pasture  and 
using  several  yards  of  pink  neck  ribbon  for  a  guid- 
ing rope.  His  hurried  vision  descried  almost  at 
the  same  instant  an  almost  naked  black  girl  being 
dragged  along  to  a  lustful  brute's  hut  at  the  end 
of  a  twisted  rope,  and  lashed  with  another  bit  of 
the  same  tough  vine.  The  sight  of  the  tiny  trickling 
red  stream  down  her  back,  and  her  pitiful  heart- 
rending cries  sounding  in  his  ears,  awoke  Mr.  Mis- 
sionary in  a  lather  of  cold  sweat. 


8o  A  Congo  Chattel 

But  alas,  the  fate  of  the  girl  is  no  dream  or  flight 
of  disordered  fancy,  but  a  plain  matter  of  every- 
day fact  in  Congoland. 

Lelo  had  never  looked  upon  a  horse  and  knew 
nothing  of  its  trials;  she  had  troubles  of  her 
own.  This  tale  as  it  has  to  do  mostly  with  her 
must  be  finished  without  digressing  so  far  afield 
again  as  to  the  land  of  oppressed  horses! 


A    CORNER    OF    KINKONZI    STATION 


FIREPLACE  AT  BASE  OF  TREE.     IN  LOWER  LEFT-HAND 
CORNER  ARE   CHARRED   BONES   OF  VICTIM    POI- 
SONED   FOR    WITCHCRAFT. 


CHAPTER    VI. 
Tried  and  Acquitted. 

DOT  long  after  she  had  related  to  Lelo  the 
sad  story  of  her  mother's  end  Mayala  was 
taken  suddenly  ill,  and  died  a  few  days 
later.  Lelo  deeply  regretted  the  loss  of  her  friend 
and  was  perhaps  the  most  sincere  mourner  at  her 
grave.  Friends  like  Mayala  were  very  scarce  in  her 
circle. 

The  uneventful  round  of  Lelo's  existence  was 
resumed.  Month  after  month  rolled  by  with  noth- 
ing to  vary  the  monotony,  and  more  than  a  year 
had  passed  before  the  routine  was  disturbed.  She 
uttered  a  thoughtless,  harmless  remark  to  Mavambu 
that  instantly  caused  a  commotion.  Her  unwise 
speech  nearly  cost  her  her  life ;  she  paid  dearly  for 
what  was  no  more  than  a  slip  of  the  tongue  before 
the  matter  was  finally  closed. 

Mayala's  grave,  in  plain  view  from  the  path  that 
ran  through  the  forest  behind  the  village,  caved  in. 
A  mat  and  a  few  frail  sticks  had  been  laid  over 
the  corpse,  and  these  soon  decaying  the  dirt  dropped 
down  farther  into  the  hole.  The  broken  pots,  a 
basket,  and  an  idol  that  embellished  the  top  had 
fallen  over  and  were  almost  hidden  by  the  quickly 
growing  weeds. 


82  A  Congo  Chattel 

Lelo  mentioned  the  matter  to  Mavambu  one  day, 
and  spoke  about  the  bad  condition  of  Mayala's 
grave.  He  turned  upon  her  immediately,  and  glar- 
ing as  if  she  were  indeed  an  evil  spirit  that  had 
just  come  from  the  dark  realms  beyond,  hinted 
suspiciously : 

"Zindoki  are  interested  in  the  dead." 

She  was  alarmed  at  the  intimation,  but  managed 
to  stammer  out  a  timid  acknowledgment  to  his  sage 
remark  about  witches.  She  wished  at  the  same 
time  she  could  control  her  limbs,  which  suddenly 
began  to  tremble,  and  to  make  her  face  appear 
natural  and  unconcerned.  Mavambu,  in  the  light 
of  his  sudden  feeling  of  distrust,  viewing  the  mat- 
ter perplexedly  and  unheeding  her  halting  inter- 
ruption, continued: 

"Why  should  any  honest  woman  talk  about 
graves  ?" 

"Me,  I  didn't  mean  any  harm !" 

He  made  no  reply  to  that,  but  continued  to  re- 
gard her  sternly.  He  was  busy  with  his  new  thoughts, 
mentally  weighing  her  doubtful  words  and  altered 
looks. 

"I  saw  that  the  mound  had  dropped  and  the  nkisi 
fallen  over,  and  thought  that  you  might  like  to 
know  it." 

"I  could  have  seen  for  myself.  Who  looks  at 
graves  ?" 

"I  just  happened  to  notice  it,"  she  faltered  with 
growing  agitation;  thinking  about  the  dread  word 


Tried  and  Acquitted  83 

ndoki  he  had  used.  Her  dismay  was  not  un- 
noticed by  her  lord. 

"Me,  I  have  other  things  to  look  at  than  graves 
caved  in  by  devilry.  What  have  you  got  to  do 
with  such  things?"  Without  giving  her  opportu- 
nity for  a  frightened  reply  in  an  attempt  to  clear 
up  the  misunderstanding,  and  interrupting  her  de- 
fense, he  charged:  "Maybe  you  yourself  are 
ndokir 

Denials  were  becoming  worse  than  wasted  effort. 
Each  new  form  of  explanation  made  to  Mavambu 
and  all  the  protestations  of  innocence  given  out 
in  the  village  only  served  to  draw  and  concentrate 
attention  upon  the  accusation  that  had  been  made. 
The  more  she  denied  and  endeavored  to  explain 
the  matter  the  more  she  became  entangled. 

That  she  was  frightened  was  plain  to  be  seen,  and 
so  her  denials  were  soon  reckoned  as  the  lying 
ravings  of  a  detected  witch  trying  to  further  blind 
their  eyes  to  her  true  character.  If  she  were  not 
guilty,  said  they,  what  was  the  use  of  her  talk? 
What  had  she  to  fear  ?  Only  the  guilty  were  fearful. 
Their  words  did  not  alter  the  facts;  Lelo  was  in- 
nocent, and  afraid  too. 

Mavambu,  as  became  an  honest  man  ready  to 
sacrifice  personal  interest  to  public  welfare,  went 
to  his  brethren  and  accused  the  woman.  His 
trusty  brethren  should  not  suffer  through  her  even 
though  she  was  his  own  wife.  If  she  should  be 
found  guilty  and  put  out  of  the  way  of  doing 


84  A  Congo  Chattel 

further  harm,  he  would  suffer  considerable  pecu- 
niary loss.  But  what  of  that?  His  duty  to  the 
community  was  clear,  and  recognizing  the  fact,  he 
would  not  fail  in  discharging  it. 

He  had  now,  because  of  her  alarm,  good  reason 
to  believe  that  she  was  ndoki.  He  did  not  pro- 
pose to  allow  her  to  work  out  her  devilish  schemes, 
using  him  as  a  screen,  and  abusing  the  shelter  of 
his  honorable  roof.  Mavambu  was  still  possessed 
of  a  good  measure  of  public  spirit  in  a  degenerate 
age  when  all  men  sought  their  own,  and  not  an- 
other's good. 

Several  women  vindicated  Mavambu's  admirable 
stand  at  once,  and  sought  to  corroborate  his  praise- 
worthy accusation  against  Lelo  by  relating  various 
untoward  circumstances.  There  were  several  ques- 
tionable actions  of  the  accused  now  to  be  ac- 
counted for.  There  were  sundry  mysterious  looks 
and  mutterings  which  they  had  wondered  at,  and 
which  now  must  be  satisfactorily  explained,  all  of 
which  came  back  to  them  with  added  force,  since 
their  memories  had  been  revived  through  the  re- 
cent stir  over  a  dead  woman's  grave. 

Since  the  matter  had  been  mentioned  one  good 
lady  was  then  at  liberty  to  state  positively  that  she 
had  been  certain  for  a  long  time  that  Lelo  was 
ndoki.  In  fact  as  soon  as  she  had  set  eyes  upon 
her  she  had  noticed,  so  it  seemed,  a  certain  pecu- 
liar expression.  This  strange  look  she  found  ac- 
centuated on  one  occasion  when  Lelo  thought  no- 


Tried  and  Acquitted  85 

body  was  observing  her.  This  witness  was  confi- 
dent that  the  said  odd  look  was  the  hall-mark  of 
the  Evil  One,  nkadi  ampemha  himself.  She  had 
not  felt  free  before  to  voice  her  knowledge,  as 
none  besides  herself  seemed  to  be  aware  of  Lelo*s 
true  character.  Being  also  naturally  fearful  of 
making  any  mistake,  and  of  accusing  anybody  ha- 
stily or  wrongfully,  she  had  considered  it  prudent 
to  await  developments. 

Another  outspoken  soul,  greatly  stirred  with  in- 
dignation at  the  bare  thought  of  the  shameful  du- 
plicity of  the  hypocritical,  smiling  Lelo,  slapped  her 
thighs  vigorously,  stamped  her  feet  wrath  fully, 
waved  her  arms  wildly,  and  said  loudly,  standing 
on  the  plaza  in  the  midst  of  a  sympathetic  group, 
that  Lelo's  coming  back  to  Kimbenza  was  all  a 
put-up  job.  She  charged  the  Kibungu  people  with 
being  well  aware  of  Lelo's  devilish  proclivities. 
But  they,  lacking  the  public  spirit  and  courage  to 
put  her  out  of  the  way  in  the  lawful  manner,  had 
concocted  the  plan  of  having  her  pretend  to  be 
homesick  and  run  away.  Their  imposture  being 
thus  laid  bare,  it  could  be  seen  at  a  glance  that 
the  Kibungu  people  had  gotten  rid  of  her  and  her 
machinations  and  had  at  the  same  time  been  re- 
imbursed for  any  original  expenditure  which  they 
might  otherwise  have  lost.  Lelo  too  had  gained; 
she  got  a  further  lease  of  life  to  work  out  her  vile 
plots  against  the  welfare  of  the  country.  What 
the  last  speaker  said  must  surely  have  been  revealed 


86  A  Congo  Chattel 

to  her;  she  was  a  seer,  seemingly;  she  understood 
the  awful  plot  so  well. 

How  could  Lelo  help  but  look  guilty  and  change 
countenance  under  the  openly  accusing  looks  and 
loudly  voiced  charges  of  Mavambu  and  the  neigh- 
bors? For  a  time  nothing  was  said  openly  about 
poison,  but  she  wished  that  they  would  speak  about 
it  publicly.  It  would  be  such  a  relief  to  be  tried  and 
acquitted.  She  knew  that  she  would  be  cleared  when 
she  got  a  chance  to  prove  her  innocence.  How  could 
the  nkasa  bark  injure  her  since  she  was  as  guiltless 
of  witchcraft  as  the  babe  in  her  arms  ?  Was  it  not  an 
age-long  established  fact  that  nkasa  was  only  deadly 
to  those  who  were  in  league  with  the  Evil  One? 
She  wished  that  they  would  soon  do  something  more 
than  ogle  and  snarl  at  her,  she  was  getting  enough 
of  that;  she  chafed  under  the  suspense,  and  longed 
for  the  privilege  of  proving  herself  guiltless. 

When  some  of  the  Ancients  came  to  think  of  it, 
it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Lelo  was  ndoki. 
They  recalled  then  that  after  Lelo  had  been  sold 
off  to  Kibungu,  her  own  mother  had  developed  un- 
mistakable symptoms  of  witchcraft.  They  remem- 
bered, too,  how  that  when  Koso  boldly  had  her  tried, 
the  mother  had  died  in  agony  on  the  spot  from 
the  nkasa,  as  any  witch  would,  and  her  body  had 
been  dragged  off  in  triumph  and  burned.  From 
such  a  mother  what  else  could  they  have  expected  ? 
Lelo  had  it  in  the  blood  by  birth,  and  devilry  had 
been  imbibed  with  her  mother's  milk.     They  might 


Tried  and  Acquitted  87 

well  be  thankful  that  she  had  been  found  out  before 
she  had  gotten  any  further  along  on  her  evil  course. 

Strange  to  say,  none  of  them  had  thought  about 
her  mother  before,  possibly  they  had  lost  sight  of 
her  case  among  a  multitude  of  other  affairs  of  a 
similar  nature;  but  now  all  was  as  plain  as  day. 
Seeing  the  matter  so  clearly  it  was  necessary  to 
go  to  the  root  of  the  evil  and  cut  out  the  dangerous 
growth  before  it  progressed  farther. 

Much  evil  might  come  through  longer  delay ;  even 
then  some  of  them  might  be  under  the  first  potent 
touch  of  the  enemy  working  through  Lelo.  Several 
suspicious  pains  and  aches  had  not  been  accounted 
for  lately  by  natural  causes.  Having  resisted  all 
lawful  remedies  probably  they  came  through  occult 
power,  and  it  was  no  doubt  high  time  that  strong 
preventive  measures  be  taken. 

True  the  Missioni  was  close  by,  and  Bula  Matadi 
(the  Government)  sometimes  made  trouble  over 
the  killing  of  a  witch  close  to  a  Vula;  so  the  affair 
must  be  arranged  to  keep  it  from  the  ears  of  the 
Government  and  the  baNganga  saNzamhi.  Even 
though  the  missionaries  were  close  at  hand  and  as 
usual  nosing  about,  in  a  matter  of  such  tremendous 
importance,  when  so  much  was  at  stake  certain 
risks  must  be  taken. 

Mavambu  consulted  with  the  Elders  and  they 
agreed  to  pass  the  word  among  the  adults  to  drop 
all  talk  on  the  subject.  It  would  never  do  for 
some  foolish  child  to  mention  the  story  over  at  the 


88  A  Congo  Chattel 

Vula  school.  They  could  wait  for  a  little  until 
the  excitement  had  subsided,  and  then  have  the 
poison  trial  for  Lelo  in  secret,  in  the  presence  of 
only  a  few  trustworthy  witnesses. 

In  due  time  Lelo  was  poisoned.  The  usual  pro- 
cedure was  not  followed  in  her  case.  Mavambu 
reached  the  door  of  her  hut  one  morning  at  the 
first  glimmer  of  gray  in  the  east.  While  the  vil- 
lagers restlessly  turned  on  their  mats  in  the  early 
chill,  or  sleepily  revived  their  fires  by  poking  the 
living  ends  of  the  partly  consumed  sticks  together, 
he  came  according  to  agreement  to  arouse  her. 

Lelo  sprang  to  answer  the  knock,  leaving  the 
children  cuddled  together  on  the  simple  bed,  and 
demanded  cautiously  in  the  terse  native  style  before 
removing  the  bar,  "Who?" 

"We  go  now,  we!"  The  voice  was  Mavambu's 
replying  in  the  same  characteristic  Congo  way. 

She  knew  it  was  needless  to  ask,  but  said  never- 
theless, "Where?" 

"To  forest !"  was  Mavambu's  word  in  reply,  with- 
out mentioning  the  purpose  of  their  journey. 

"Good,  I  come!"  Lelo  could  afford  to  be  short. 
She  knew  perfectly  well  why  they  were  to  set  out 
for  the  forest,  and  she  was  anxious  to  go  with  him. 

Stepping  lightly  over  the  high  sill,  and  closing 
the  door  noiselessly  behind  her,  she  ran  quickly 
to  the  hut  of  a  girl  friend,  and  begged  her  to  go 
an4  look  after  the  babies.     Without  returning  or 


CONGO  TEACHER-EVANGELIST  AND   WIFE 


IDULb  AND  BROKEN   CROCKERY  ON  A  GRAVE 


Tried  and  Acquitted  89 

looking  back  toward  her  treasure  chamber,  she  fol- 
lowed her  husband  at  a  brisk  gait. 

Wasting  no  words  they  left  the  noises  of  the 
awakening  village  and  soon  reached  an  unfre- 
quented spot,  over  seldom-trodden  paths.  Lelo  was 
now  2ls  cool  inwardly  as  her  body  was  chill, 
covered  as  it  was  with  the  heavy  dews  brushed 
from  the  bushes  lining  the  path  on  either  side  and 
that  were  fighting  for  even  the  narrow  hard  ribbon 
of  earth  over  which  the  ill-mated  couple  walked. 

It  was  Mavambu  who  was  nervous  now.  Pos- 
sibly the  strain  of  preparing  for  the  ordeal  was  tell- 
ing upon  him.     Lelo  was  quite  composed. 

Ordinarily  it  was  the  business  of  a  witch-doctor 
to  discover,  point  out,  and  name  the  witch,  or 
witches,  troubling  a  community  by  dangerous  activi- 
ties. After  such  simple  remedies,  in  case  of  sick- 
ness, as  painting  the  body  of  the  afflicted  one  with 
cabalistic  chalk  markings,  or  the  incantations  and 
dancing  of  a  wise  woman,  had  failed,  the  witch- 
doctor was  called  for  an  expert  diagnosis.  Acci- 
dents and  disasters  of  various  kinds  also  required 
satisfactory  explanations. 

Witch-doctors  {Zinganga)  have  a  very  well- 
defined  way  of  exposing  the  real  source  of  illness 
or  public  calamities,  and  of  finding  the  culpable 
ones  when  the  cause  is  found  to  be  witchcraft. 
Announcement  is  generally  made  in  advance,  and 
time  and  place  fixed  for  the  search. 

The  villagers  and  their  friends  from  other  places 


90  A  Congo  Chattel 

assemble  at  a  fixed  time  to  "hunt  the  witch/'  as 
people  in  other  lands  gather  for  their  particular  kind 
of  hunting.  This  sport — it  is  sport  as  well  as  a 
religious  duty — is  more  interesting  to  Mayombe 
people  than  a  buffalo  hunt  since  the  game  is  more 
valuable.  It  is  more  exciting  than  a  palaver  as  so 
much  more  is  at  stake.  It  is  a  good  way  to  dispose 
of  enemies  because  it  presents  fewer  risks  than  a 
knife-thrust  or  a  gun-shot  on  an  unfrequented  path. 

Even  if  no  special  antipathy  had  already  existed 
toward  the  guilty  wretch,  there  are  still  the  fields 
and  household  effects  of  the  departed  ndoki  to  be 
considered.  This  confiscation  and  division  are  al- 
ways the  excuse  for  an  exciting  diversion,  especially 
when  the  rascally  witch  happens  to  be  a  well-to-do 
person  and  of  some  standing  among  them. 

According  to  the  locality  in  which  he  practices, 
the  fetich  priest  has  several  different  ways  of  find- 
ing out  a  witch.  Sometimes  the  name  of  the  cul- 
prit is  whispered  in  his  ear  while  he  lies  in  a  trance, 
sacredly  shut  away  in  a  hut  from  the  vulgar  crowd. 
Sometimes  the  face  of  the  unspeakable  villain  is 
revealed  to  him  when  alone,  after  a  weird  perform- 
ance in  public,  when  his  body  is  fantastically 
painted,  and  robed  in  skins  and  green  leaves.  In 
the  "sacred"  privacy  of  his  hut  he  beholds  the  face 
of  the  traitor  in  the  broken  bit  of  mirror,  set  into 
the  wooden  belly  of  his  human-shaped  idol. 

Accusation  is  one  thing,  but  proof  of  guilt  is  quite 
another.     The  accused  is  rightly  held  to  be  not 


Tried  and  Acquitted  91 

guilty  until  indisputably  proven  to  be  a  criminal. 
Of  course  the  one  "pointed  out,"  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, always  vigorously  denies  any  participation 
in  occult  rites,  or  any  knowledge  of  evil  spirits. 
It  is  the  nkasa  cup  alone  that  can  determine  the 
truth  or  error  of  the  revelations  made  to  the  doctor. 

That  the  doctor's  information  is  not  always  re- 
liable is  seen  when  an  accused  person  successfully 
undergoes  the  trial.  This  is  hard  to  account  for, 
but  is  generally  met  by  the  fact  that  his  knowledge 
is  often  shown  to  be  correct,  as  seen  in  the  number 
of  witches  killed  by  the  cup,  after  being  "pointed 
out"  by  him.  The  suspected  one  must  be  proven 
guilty,  and  the  fair-minded  are  always  willing  to 
await  the  result  of  the  test,  lest  they  wrong  an 
innocent  person  by  hasty  judgment. 

The  accused  person  is  generally  given  until  day- 
break the  following  morning.  A  strict  fast  is  ob- 
served, but  it  is  not  difficult  to  abstain  from  food 
as  most  persons  have  little  appetite  under  such  a 
serious  charge.  Then  in  the  presence  of  a  large 
crowd  of  tense  spectators,  who  have  been  drawn 
together  by  the  booming  of  the  signal  drum,  the 
draught  is  gulped  down  from  a  huge  mug.  The 
deadly  poisonous  bark  of  the  nkasa  tree  has  been 
finely  pounded  by  several  women  appointed  for  the 
purpose,  before  being  mixed  with  water  enough  to 
make  the  dose. 

The  nauseous  mixture  often  takes  immediate 
deadly  effect,  and  the  patriotic  crowd  of  villagers 


92  A  Congo  Chattel 

unite  gladly  in  destroying  the  vile  body  that  has 
been  so  prostituted  as  to  become  an  anchorage  for 
a  destroying  spirit  of  evil  from  the  unknown  seas 
of  space  behind  the  veil  of  honest  man's  ken.  With 
howls  of  rage,  mingled  with  shouts  of  triumph, 
they  complete  their  voluntary  task,  leaving  not  a 
semblance  of  humanity  beyond  shreds  of  torn  flesh 
and  partly  consumed  bones,  near  the  dying  embers 
of  a  fire,  after  which  they  take  their  departure. 

Sometimes  the  outraged  stomach  of  the  victim  is 
so  upset  by  the  noxious  draught  that  vomiting  fol- 
lows at  once.  This  fact  is  generally  heralded  with 
shouts  of  joy,  and  the  triumphant  beating  of  drums. 
The  friends  of  the  poor  dupe  are  delighted  at  the 
outcome,  and  many  pleasant  incidents  and  cere- 
monies follow  the  pains  and  retching.  Proof  of 
innocence  thus  established,  the  accuser  disgorges 
into  the  hands  of  the  accused  the  fee  that  had  been 
collected  in  advance,  and  makes  other  amends. 
A  present  of  cloth  is  sometimes  added,  or  other 
articles  bestowed  to  salve  the  wounded  feelings  of 
the  victim  of  the  mistake. 

As  soon  as  strength  returns  the  conqueror  is 
feted,  and  in  some  cases  receives  a  new  name  in 
commemoration  of  the  victory.  This  is  equivalent  to 
a  title  or  a  decoration,  and  acts  upon  the  pride  in 
much  the  same  way  as  medals  and  other  marks  of 
favor  affected  by  civilized  men  in  other  lands.  It 
is  not  strange  that  some  are  glad  to  have  this  easy 


Tried  and  Acquitted  93 

way  to  distinction  thrust  upon  them,  or  even  some- 
times to  seek  it. 

Lelo's  affair  was  carried  out  in  secret,  there  were 
only  a  few  of  Mavambu's  cronies  present  to  witness 
the  poisoning.  She  was  alone  without  one  sympa- 
thizing heart  to  stand  with  her.  Fortunately  for 
her,  and  for  her  little  ones,  the  dose  was  overstrong, 
or  her  stomach  was  in  the  right  condition  to  reject 
the  deadly  stuff,  or  God  directly  intervened.  She 
vomited  freely  at  once  and  so  got  rid  of  the  noxious 
potion. 

Doubtless  God  did  intervene  and  interfere 
directly  in  Lelo's  case.  She  was  spared  to  care 
for  her  children,  and  thus  given  opportunity  later 
on  of  accepting  Christ,  and  of  entering  into  Eternal 
Life  through  believing  in  Him. 

Her  indignation  over  the  slander  against  her  was 
swamped  under  the  inrush  of  gladness  which  fol- 
lowed when  she  realized  that  it  was  all  over,  and 
that  she  was  free — free  to  go  back  to  her  waiting 
babies,  and  to  face  the  whole  countryside  proudly, 
as  one  incontestably  shown  to  be  honest,  and  free 
from  the  hidden  and  detestable  practices  of  witch- 
craft. 

Mavambu  sheepishly  fell  in  with  the  new  order 
of  things  brought  about  by  the  unshakable  sign  of 
Lelo's  innocence,  and  presented  her  with  several 
articles  of  value.  His  gifts  included  a  new  loin 
cloth  of  checked  cotton,  in  which  to  receive  her 
friends  and  neighbors  when  they  brought  their  con- 


94  A  Congo  Chattel 

gratulations  together  with  gifts  of  food  to  the  happy 
victor. 

Lelo's  life  once  more  resumed  its  normal  course. 
Her  glory  was  but  fleeting;  her  presents  quickly 
consumed.  The  nkasa  test  was  forgotten,  and  her 
life  was  claimed  by  the  many  duties  of  her  humble 
lot. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

Serving  a  New  Master. 

[OSO'S  village  had  not  changed  since  Lelo 
first  went  away  to  Kibungu.  Moving  the 
town  to  new  sites  in  the  neighborhood  had 
not  changed  it;  it  was  the  same  outwardly  as  it 
had  been  for  years.  The  same  kind  of  grass  huts, 
always  being  repaired,  or  sadly  in  need  of  it;  the 
same  kind  of  pots,  and  axes,  and  hoes.  The  same 
kind  of  nearly  naked  people  living  in  ignorance 
and  suffering  under  the  burden  of  their  hoary,  evil 
customs.  People  and  names  were  always  changing, 
but  to  the  eye  everything  was  almost  the  same  now 
as  it  had  been  for  many  years. 

However,  a  great  change  had  indeed  come  to  the 
neighborhood,  even  if  it  had  been  felt  only  by  two 
or  three  of  the  people  of  Kinkoso  town.  The 
change  had  come  through  the  advent  of  the  strange 
white  men  from  across  the  sea.  At  the  time  Lelo  was 
marched  away  into  slavery,  a  naked  slip  of  a  girl, 
the  white  man  had  just  penetrated  into  the  jungles 
of  Kinkoso.  She  had  never  seen  a  "man-in-cloth," 
but  had  heard  many  strangely  distorted  tales  con- 
cerning them;  about  their  appearance,  their  food, 
their  dress,  their  jabbering  harsh  language,  and 
evil  customs;  but  that  was  all. 


96  A  Congo  Chattel 

She  had  never  seen  a  white  face,  and  had  never 
listened  to  such  a  !  story  as  the  strangers  living 
near  Kinkoso  endeavored,  from  the  first  day  of  their 
coming  to  make  plain  in  their  barbarous,  broken 
kiKongo.  Shortly  before  she  had  been  carried  off 
in  Bungu's  train,  the  first  mindele  miaNzamhi 
(white  men  of  God)  had  reached  Yenge.  Lelo  had 
listened  to  the  strange  sound  of  the  church  bell 
that  first  awakened  the  sleeping  echoes  of  the  pri- 
meval forest  on  Kimfutila  plateau.  The  bell  was 
rung  before  the  chapel  was  built,  hanging  high  in 
a  convenient  tree,  but  Lelo  was  a  woman  full  grown 
before  she  answered  the  signal  call  and  took  her 
place  within  the  precincts  of  God's  little  house 
among  His  people. 

The  curiously  dressed  white  strangers  had  come 
along,  guided  by  a  friendly  boy  from  a  Missioni 
called  Ngangila  near  the  Congo  River,  which  place 
had  been  opened  several  years  before,  and  the  mis- 
sionaries had  gotten  a  start  on  the  language  there. 
When  they  reached  Yenge  (peace)  they  bargained 
with  the  important  men  and  one  or  two  lesser  lights 
for  the  right  to  settle  in  the  country. 

Each  one  of  the  favorably  inclined  "Kings" 
received  as  a  token  of  their  friendly  reception  a 
second-hand  frock  coat,  a  red  fez  cap,  a  blanket, 
also  red,  a  dagger-pointed  bone-handled  knife  in 
a  gorgeously  painted  pasteboard  scabbard,  and  sev- 
eral other  highly  desirable  articles,  all  equally 
valuable. 


Serving  a  New  Master  97 

After  the  piece  of  land  had  been  selected  which 
the  white  men  wanted  for  a  station  site,  the  same 
performance  was  gone  over  with  the  women,  who 
owned  the  yam  and  manioc  patches  and  the  growing 
banana  trees.  The  articles  given  out  were  changed 
to  suit  female  tastes,  and  the  women  received  strips 
of  red  twill  cloth,  bandana  handkerchiefs,  small 
round  mirrors,  beads,  spoons,  and  other  coveted 
treasures,  brought  from  the  white  man's  El  Dorado 
home  "under  the  seas,"  and  made  in  the  factories 
of  his  Nzamhi. 

The  first  building  put  up  by  the  newcomers  was 
a  "cloth  house,"  a  very  curious  affair  in  those  parts. 
Near  the  tent  was  built  a  grass  hut.  Bought  and 
paid  for,  torn  down  from  its  village  plot,  carried 
over  piecemeal  and  erected  on  the  station  all  within 
one  day — almost  an  incredible  feat  for  people  who 
would  have  left  it  on  the  way,  while  they  went  off 
to  rest  for  days,  or  applied  themselves  to  some  other 
business  in  a  leisurely  manner.  This  store  hut  was 
soon  filled  with  the  valuable  traps  of  the  strangers 
brought  in  packages  on  the  heads  of  their  caravan 
porters.  A  strong  lock  was  snapped  on  the  door, 
while  the  owners  were  at  work  clearing  up  the 
place. 

Before  any  permanent  building  had  been  erected 
and  while  still  engaged  in  gathering  materials,  mak- 
ing bricks  and  drying  them  in  the  sun,  a  school  was 
started,  and  daily  services  were  held  for  the  boys 
and  men  employed  on  the  place,  and  for  the  others 


98  A  Congo  Chattel 

engaged  in  gathering  materials,  chopping  down 
trees,  digging  stumps  and  roots,  and  cutting  away 
the  persistent  heavy  grass  that  would  push  up  in 
every  unoccupied  spot. 

None  of  the  people  hired  had  been  accustomed  to 
any  regular  work,  but  the  treasures  of  the  white 
men  were  a  great  incentive  to  toil.  There  was  no 
scarcity  of  hands,  more  or  less  willing,  when  a  holi- 
day costume  consisting  of  a  fathom  of  blue  cloth, 
a  cap  and  a  knife  could  be  procured  for  a  month's 
labor,  to  say  nothing  of  regular  rations  of  food 
every  day. 

During  the  first  sessions,  there  were  more  on  the 
outside  than  seated  within  the  school  hut!  There 
were  more  to  watch  the  teacher  and  comment  on 
his  appearance  and  costume  than  there  were  to  en- 
roll as  pupils.  There  was  no  lack  of  seating  capacity 
inside,  but  then  the  outside  afforded  more  security 
from  kindoki.  The  audience  listened  intently  and 
watched  carefully  the  contortions  of  those  who 
were  struggling  to  grasp  the  elusive  letters. 

The  audible  comments  from  those  outside  some- 
times evoked  defiant  looks  and  stinging  replies  from 
the  indignant  scholars.  There  was  much  talk  out- 
side about  witchcraft  and  about  foolish  persons  who 
were  in  a  fair  way  to  lose  their  sight  poring  over 
forbidden  hieroglyphics;  nevertheless  the  skulu 
went  on  increasing  in  popularity.  The  extraordi- 
nary buzzing  from  the  temple  of  learning  always  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  visiting  natives,  who  fre- 


Serving  a  New  Master  99 

quently  came  in  droves  to  behold  for  themselves  the 
wonderful  sights  of  which  they  had  been  told  in 
their  own  far  country. 

Lelo  ought  to  have  been  among  the  first  com- 
pany of  young  people  at  Yenge,  many  of  whom  are 
now  doubtless  safe  at  home  with  the  Lord.  But  the 
little  girl  was  far  away,  serving  in  bitter  bondage. 
She  had  gone  before  the  revolutionary  period  had 
begun,  and  so  missed  the  first  manoeuvres  of  the 
invaders,  who  had  come  from  kumputu  to  turn  the 
Mayombe  world  upside  down. 

The  gospel  story  was  so  strange  that  it  was  re- 
garded as  only  a  well-concocted  pretense.  It  was 
of  course  but  a  cover  to  hide  the  real  purpose  of  all 
that  tremendous  outlay  of  valuables.  They  were 
not  such  fools  as  to  believe  that  the  mindele  mia- 
Nzamhi  were  giving  away  blankets  and  coats  and 
other  articles,  without  expecting  any  tangible  re- 
turn. What  else  could  it  be  called  but  "giving 
away"  when  the  return  was  valueless;  for  who 
would  think  of  parting  with  good  cloth  for  a  piece 
of  land  that  was  of  no  value  in  itself,  but  only 
worth  what  was  dug  from  it  by  hard  labor  ? 

All  other  white  men  known  by  sight  or  by  repu- 
tation to  the  hardy  Congolese  travelers  were  after 
money;  and  it  would  soon  be  seen^  said  the  more 
suspicious  ones,  that  the  haNganga  Nzamhi  were 
self-seekers  also.  That  they  had  come,  without 
ulterior  motives,  simply  to  tell  of  the  love  of  God 
for  them,  was  of  course  not  to  be  believed  by 


106  A  Congo  Chattel 

men  of  the  world.  That  talk  about  Nzambi,  whom 
they  had  never  seen,  would  serve  for  credulous 
fools,  for  the  women  and  the  children.  Some  of 
their  own  traders  had  known  the  wily  ways  of 
the  "people  in  cloth"  for  a  long  time,  meeting  them 
frequently  on  their  journeys  to  the  Coast,  but  not 
much  tHat  was  creditable  to  the  strangers  had  they 
ever  observed. 

The  "good  news"  {Nsamu  wamhote)  was  an  old 
tale  by  the  time  Lelo  got  back  to  Kimbenza,  close  by 
Yenge  Station.  To  many  it  had  proven  wearisome, 
and  it  was  decidedly  less  interesting  than  many  of 
their  own  well-known  fables.  Lelo  fell  in  with  the 
generally  accepted  views  on  the  subject,  and  found 
at  first  that  the  story  did  not  appeal  to  her. 

The  first  time  it  impressed  her  as  having  any 
sense  in  it  whatever  was  after  she  had  been  "home" 
for  several  years,  and  Mrs.  Missionary  had  nursed 
her  through  a  very  serious  illness.  Then  somehow 
it  began  to  grip  and  it  seized  her  heart  with  its 
simple  truths.  It  sounded  different  to  her,  lying 
there  on  her  mat,  listening  to  what  Mrs.  Missionary 
was  saying  in  a  natural  and  unaffected  way  than 
when  she  had  heard  it  preached  in  her  village. 

Coughing  her  throat  free  from  the  smoke  which 
percolated  through  the  butt  ends  of  some  dead 
sticks,  the  points  of  which  were  glowing  on  a  hot 
bed  of  coals  near  Lelo's  couch,  Mrs.  Missionary 
ventured  experimentally,  after  politely  hearing  that 
her  patient  was  better, 


Serving  a  New  Master  loi 

"You  were  very  close  to  the  land  of  the  dead." 

"Yes,  Mama,  I  have  seen  much  trouble,  indeed." 

"Suppose  you  hadn't  come  back,  but  had  gone  on 
your  journey,  then  what?" 

"Who  knows?"  Lelo  queried  faintly. 

"Me,  I  know.  Listen!  *He  that  believeth  not 
the  Son  shall  not  see  life;  but  the  wrath  of  God 
abideth  on  him.' " 

Lelo  shrugged  her  shoulders,  dismissing  the  un- 
welcome subject,  and  Mrs.  Missionary  wisely  said 
no  more  at  the  time.  But  Lelo  soon  found  that 
she  could  not  put  away  the  new  thoughts  that 
crowded  into  her  mind,  after  Mrs.  Missionary  had 
ceased  speaking,  however  much  she  wanted  to  for- 
get and  to  relegate  the  whole  matter  to  oblivion. 

Among  other  preposterous  teachings,  as  near  as 
Lelo  could  determine,  was  one  stating  that  they 
were  all  slaves,  and  that  they  might  all  be  free. 
The  Doctors  of  God  held  that  the  whole  country 
was  enslaved,  not  alone  the  actual  slaves  of  the 
rulers,  and  the  women  and  children  in  bondage, 
but  the  Chiefs  and  Headmen  themselves  were  serfs 
in  the  clutches  of  a  hard  master.  So  the  strange 
teaching  declared. 

The  baNganga  Nzamhi  said  that  sickness  and 
brutal  oppressions  and  all  the  vile  deeds  that  cursed 
the  land  were  caused  through  the  people  being  in 
fetters  to  nkadi  ampemba,  or  Satana  as  they  called 
him;  and  that  all  the  people  of  the  land  were  but 
enslaved  captives,  and  doing  his  will  daily. 


I02  A  Congo  Chattel 

They  explained  in  their  teaching  that  the  will  of 
the  Enemy  was  to  inspire  them  to  all  manner  of 
cruel  and  debasing  actions,  and  that  he  reveled  in 
the  consequent  result  of  misery  and  woe.  They 
said  that  whosoever  committed  sin  was  in  heart 
the  slave  of  sin ;  and  that  freedom  of  the  body  was 
of  but  little  value,  compared  with  freedom  of  the 
soul.  They  called  deeds  sinful  to  do  which  Lelo 
had  always  considered  right.  She  had  known  that  it 
was  a  grave  error  to  be  caught  with  another  per- 
son's property,  but  to  get  away  with  the  goods 
successfully  was  not  only  profitable  but  a. decidedly 
clever,  laudable  and  laughable  act. 

Incredible  as  it  was,  they  claimed  that  soul- free- 
dom could  be  had  by  anybody  for  the  asking;  and 
that  it  was  for  all  who  would  believe  on  Klisto, 
and  go  into  His  service.  For  everybody — even 
women!  No  wonder  that  Lelo  found  it  a  hard 
saying  to  accept,  when  even  slaves  and  women  were 
included  in  the  offer. 

Mrs.  Missionary  came  across  Lelo  one  day  out 
in  her  field.  Whose  field  ?  Lelo's  field.  But  then 
it  also  belonged  to  Mrs.  Missionary.  It  was  in 
Lelo's  little  plot  of  ground  that  they  met,  while  the 
owner  was  hard  at  her  hoeing ;  but  it  was  also  Mrs. 
Missionary's  territory  in  another  sense.  Lelo  de- 
voted her  time  to  yams  and  manioc  and  other  things 
that  required  good  soil  and  diligent  cultivation ;  but 
Mrs.  Missionary  was  sowing  seeds  of  another  kind 


Serving  a  New  Master  103 

— of  that  kind  which  could  only  germinate  in  human 
hearts  that  were  open  to  receive  them. 

Mrs.  Missionary  was  out  walking,  going  through 
the  gardens  inviting  the  girls  and  women  and  babies 
to  the  women's  meeting  over  at  the  Vula. 

"Mhote  Lelo,"  said  she,  leaning  hard  on  a  friend- 
ly stump,  and  slowly  mopping  beads  of  perspiration 
from  face  and  neck  with  a  generous-sized  handker- 
chief. 

"Eh,  Mama  mbote"  said  Lelo  returning  the  salu- 
tation, "where  are  you  going?" 

Lelo  arose  from  her  stooping  posture,  laid  aside 
the  short-handled  hoe,  and  prepared  for  a  friendly 
chat.  Removing  her  loin  cloth  which  covered  the 
baby  and  taking  him  up  from  his  bed  of  leaves,  she 
improved  the  time  by  feeding  him  while  having  a 
moka  with  her  friend. 

Mrs.  Missionary  was  unable  to  reply  "Nowhere," 
or  "I'm  taking  a  walk,"  as  neither  one  of  those 
expressions  would  have  conveyed  any  meaning  to 
Lelo's  practical  mind.  For  her  there  was  no  such 
locality  as  nowhere,  and  that  any  reasonable  being 
would  wander  aimlessly  about  on  a  hot  day,  for  the 
sake  of  walking,  was  not  only  incredible,  but  a  de- 
cidedly unsuitable  exercise  for  one  so  wise  as  a 
missionary. 

"I  have  been  to  the  village,  and  am  now  here  to 
ask  you  why  you  don't  come  to  the  Vula  to 
samhilaf" 

"Pray !"  repeated  Lelo  shrilly,  and  then  asked  as 


I04  A  Congo  Chattel 

if  "no"  could  be  the  only  possible  answer :  "Women, 
is  it  that  they  ever  have  time  to  pray  ?" 

"Women  find  time  to  dance  and  to  play,  don't 
they?" 

Lelo  grudgingly  admitted  that  they  did  manage 
to  get  a  little  time  for  recreation,  now  and  then. 

"Women  should  take  time  to  pray  now,"  urged 
Mrs.  Missionary  pleasantly,  "if  they  don't  wish  to 
regret  their  neglect  hereafter.  Why  not  come  to 
the  women's  meeting  this  afternoon  and  bring  the 
baby?" 

Lelo  hesitated,  and  Mrs.  Missionary  went  on  to 
say  in  sober  tones :  "You  may  be  sure  your  garden 
will  keep  on  growing  while  you  are  away  from  it." 

Lelo  laughed.  The  droll  conceit  amused  her. 
She  promised  that  she  would  attend  the  service 
that  day. 

She  not  only  went  that  afternoon,  but  she  re- 
turned again  and  again.  The  more  she  frequented 
the  Chapel,  the  higher  rose  her  interest  in  the 
strange  teachings  that  she  heard.  She  had  a  hun- 
ger to  understand,  to  grasp  what  was  given  out. 
She  sat  on  a  hard  bench  made  of  packing-case 
boards,  and  cudgeled  her  brain  with  the  new  words 
and  fresh  ideas  given  from  the  platform.  A  vista 
opened  before  her;  she  soon  began  to  see  beyond 
her  hut  and  the  little  garden  patch.  Her  heart 
worked  better  than  her  head;  she  was  slow  in  ap- 
prehending with  her  brain,  but  the  truth  found  an 
opening  into  her  heart.     It  entered  there  and  com- 


Serving  a  New  Master  105 

pletely  changed  the  whole  course  of  Lelo's  life. 

Seated  in  Yenge  Chapel  one  day,  she  heard  a 
message  that  seemed  to  have  come  direct  from 
heaven  and  intended  particularly  for  her.  It  touched 
her  heart  and  seemed  to  meet  her  own  special 
need  as  no  other  word  had  ever  yet  done. 

"Thou  wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed  us  to  God 
by  Thy  blood/'  read  Mrs.  Missionary  slowly  and 
devoutly.  She  then  commented  briefly  in  expla- 
nation of  those  precious  words  of  Scripture. 

Lelo  heard  darkly,  and  understood  but  little  of 
the  exposition.  She  indistinctly  saw  Mrs.  Mission- 
ary standing  in  her  accustomed  place  upon  the  raised 
brick  platform.  She  felt  the  movements  of  the 
crowd  of  women  and  children  seated  about  her  and 
heard  with  a  start  the  loud,  resounding  slap  with 
which  a  woman  killed  a  much-dreaded  poisonous 
fly  that  had  settled  on  the  bare  leg  of  a  little  child 
seated  on  her  lap. 

She  was  dimly  conscious  of  the  beautiful  picture 
seen  through  the  open  window,  of  the  many-hued 
plants,  and  the  tree  branches  and  leaves  bathed  in 
the  mellow  sunlight  and  stirring  in  the  afternoon 
breezes.  She  felt  the  tugging  of  her  own  restless 
child  and  whispered  a  soothing  promise  to  take  her 
home  soon. 

Somehow  all  that  she  heard  and  saw  was  as  if 
in  a  dream.  In  her  heart  beat  the  message,  slowly 
and  distinctly,  "redeemed  by  blood/'  and  over  and 
over  again  her  brain  repeated  the  words  "brought 


io6  A  Congo  Chattel 

back  to  God."  The  story  of  Christ  and  of  His 
shed  blood  was  not  new  to  her,  but  she  had  never 
heard  it  as  it  came  to  her  then.  It  caught  and 
gripped  and  held  and  her  whole  being  was  shaken 
by  the  mighty  truth. 

"He  was  slain  to  redeem  me  back  from  slavery 
to  my  Father,  and  home,"  she  murmured,  so  low 
that  no  human  ear  could  have  caught  what  she 
said. 

Lelo  never  knew  just  how  that  tempest  under  her 
skull  and  the  turmoil  in  her  breast  began,  but 
she  understood  well  that  it  was  the  beginning  of 
something  new  and  different  in  her  life.  When  the 
strong  emotion  had  partially  subsided,  and  she  had 
mechanically  risen  to  go  out  with  the  rest  of  the 
hearers,  she  felt  so  different  and  realized  that  a 
change  had  taken  place.  Gratitude  welled  up  from 
her  heart  toward  the  One  who  had  bought  her  and 
made  her  free.  She  brushed  away  furtively  from 
her  eyes  the  tears  that  were  too  sacred  for 
other  eyes  to  look  upon.  She  vaguely  realized 
that  she  loved  Christ,  and  that  she  now  experienced 
the  joy  of  His  lifelong  love  for  her.  She  rightly 
knew  and  felt  she  had  entered  the  company  of  the 
redeemed. 

After  that  Lelo  attended  the  meetings  frequently. 
She  enjoyed  the  services  in  the  little  Chapel  and 
found  that  the  time  spent  there  cheered  and  light- 
ened an  otherwise  dreary  and  monotonous  life.  She 
was  glad  to  get  away  for  a  little  from  the  cook-pot 


Serving  a  New  Master  107 

and  the  hoe,  and  to  be  away  from  the  sordid  scenes 
of  everyday  life,  and  the  vile  words  and  obscenities 
of  those  who  seemed  by  their  actions  to  be  but  little 
removed  from  the  brute  creation  that  surrounded 
them. 

There  in  the  little  grass-roofed  house  of  worship 
she  was  exalted  and  lifted  above  her  gloomy  every- 
day present,  in  devout  thought  of  Christ  and 
the  promised  radiant  future  of  purity  and  eternal 
bliss  that  awaited  her.  Even  assuming  that  the 
life  of  eternal  freedom  and  happiness  thus  held  out 
to  her  was  after  all  only  a  dream,  still  Lelo*s  life 
was  lifted  and  ennobled  materially  by  what  she 
learned  of  good  in  the  meetings. 

When  the  other  women  told  her,  with  a  knowing 
laugh,  that  the  nsamu  wamhote  was  "lies-and-lies 
only,"  it  did  not  in  the  least  shake  her  confidence 
in  the  Gospel  or  cause  her  to  doubt  her  own  experi- 
ences. She  knew  the  truth,  and  how  she  knew  it 
was  the  truth  she  was  soon  able  to  explain  to  her 
worldly-wise  and  doubting  critics. 

The  wonderful  Book  was  to  Mrs.  Missionary  as 
plain  as  anything  could  be,  so  why  should  Lelo 
also  not  be  able  to  learn  to  read  it?  She  secured 
a  Primer  by  telling  Mrs.  Missionary  of  her  hunger 
for  a  further  knowledge  of  her  Saviour,  and  began 
the  dreary  task  of  learning  those  strange  and  weari- 
some signs  that  she  must  go  over  so  many  times 
before  the  bigger  book  would  open  to  her  mind 
and  she  could  understand  its  precious  words.     It 


io8  A  Congo  Chattel 

was  hard,  but  she  patiently  stuck  to  it,  although 
for  a  long  time  progress  was  very  slow. 

She  became  so  enraptured  with  her  new  experi- 
ences, that  she  was  constrained  to  tell  the  other 
women  all  about  them,  in  order  to  arouse  their 
interest.  There  were  plenty  of  suitable  opportu- 
nities, for  their  conversation  and  daily  life  were 
barren  enough  of  interest  and  new  happenings.  The 
Vula  and  the  teachings  of  the  missionaries  were 
to  their  darkened  minds  frequently  the  subject  of 
jest  and  speculation. 

Lelo  became  after  a  while  a  real  live  missionary. 
She  did  good  work,  keeping  at  it  persistently  in 
season  and  out  of  season,  in  her  village  and  away 
in  the  fields.  Some  of  the  women  began  to  jeer 
at  her,  after  the  novelty  had  worn  off,  and  to  state 
seriously  that  she  was  crazy.  They  dubbed  her 
w/ow^i-teacher,  and  regarded  it  as  a  huge  joke  that 
one  of  their  own  number  acted  just  as  if  she  were 
a  missionary — just  like  the  white  woman  over  at 
the  Vula. 

Early  one  morning,  leaving  the  babies  to  enjoy 
themselves  contentedly  in  the  calm,  matter-of-fact 
way  typical  of  Congo  children  by  playing  at  getting 
the  meal  ready,  Lelo  went  off  as  usual  to  replenish 
the  water  jars.  She  first  filled  a  great  basket,  placing 
several  smaller  bottles  around  a  big  clay  vessel 
in  the  bottom  that  alone  would  hold  several  gallons, 
and  lifting  the  basket  onto  her  back,  started  off. 
She  reached  the  stream  in  the  valley  after  a  few 


Serving  a  New  Master  109 

minutes'  brisk  walk  along  a  winding  forest  path. 

She  was  greeted  boisterously  by  a  crowd  of 
splashing,  gossipy  women  that  had  already  assembled 
there.  Some  were  gathering  huge  green  leaves 
from  the  overhanging  bushes  to  make  soft  beds  in 
their  baskets  for  the  fragile  bottles,  or  twisting 
leaves  into  stoppers  for  the  great  mouths  of  the 
jars.  Several  women  higher  up  the  stream  were 
filling  their  vessels,  and  others,  with  their  bottles 
full  and  safely  stowed  away  in  their  baskets  on 
the  bank,  were  taking  their  customary  morning 
bath. 

Although  a  main  path  crossed  the  brook  at  that 
spot,  they  were  quite  safe  from  intrusion;  it  was 
their  private  bath  for  the  time  being.  It  would 
have  been  a  bold  fellow  indeed,  or  someone  extreme- 
ly foolish  who  would  brave  the  severe  punishment 
sure  to  follow,  if  he  approached  the  stream  with- 
out giving  warning  to  the  women.  A  wise  man 
would  herald  his  approach  by  first  shouting 
"Water?"  before  the  water  itself  was  sighted. 
Cautiously  he  would  await  a  reply  and  the  neces- 
sary permission  to  pass,  from  any  ladies  who  might 
be  about  their  ablutions.  By  several  unmistakable 
signs,  familiar  to  the  Congolese,  even  strangers 
might  detect  their  approach  to  a  stream  used  for 
bathing,  and  from  which  water  to  supply  the  vil- 
lage was  drawn. 

Most  men  were  wise  in  the  ways  of  scheming 
women  who  unscrupulously  endeavored  to  get  rich 


no  A  Congo  Chattel 

quickly.  It  had  cost  some  of  the  men  a  lot  of 
cloth  to  obtain  this  knowledge,  but  others  had 
learned  through  the  experiences  of  those  who  had 
already  fallen  victim.  It  was  a  practice  for  women 
to  often  secrete  themselves,  pretending  not  to  hear 
the  warning  shout  of  the  solitary  male  traveler;  and 
then,  unclothed,  to  stand  up  in  indignation  and  well- 
feigned  alarm  in  full  view  of  the  unwary  pilgrim 
when  he  reached  the  stream.  Their  angry  and 
raucous  cries  soon  brought  their  male  relatives  to 
the  succor  of  outraged  modesty,  when  a  settlement 
would  be  demanded. 

'  Many  slaves,  guns,  and  bundles  of  cloth  had 
been  handed  over  to  the  husbands  and  Chiefs  of 
such  crafty  conspirators  in  payment  for  "crimes" 
of  that  nature.  The  women  were  then  usually  safe 
from  intrusion,  and  a  wise  man  would  not  only  cry 
"water,"  but  generally  used  at  the  same  time  both 
ears  and  eyes  as  well  as  lungs  to  keep  him  from 
falling  into  the  traps  laid  along  the  water  courses. 
Travelers,  after  giving  warning,  were  generally  al- 
lowed to  pass  over  the  ford  after  the  women  had 
first  modestly  donned  their  few  scant  loin-cloth 
coverings  and  had  stepped  dripping  out  of  the  way. 

Lelo  was  met  upon  arrival  with  scoffing  re- 
marks, and  Kumbi,  a  girl  from  her  own  village, 
began  mockingly,  with  a  serious  and  long-drawn 
countenance, 

"Good!    ("morning"    understood)    Teacher    of 

Godr 


Serving  a  New  Master  iii 

"Lelo,  she  is  missionary?"  asked  Baku  a  friend 
of  the  farce-maker,  with  well-simulated  wonder 
at  the  title  used. 

Lelo  went  about  her  business  quietly,  first  care- 
fully putting  down  the  basket,  and  removing  the 
bottle  with  her  gentle  and  accustomed  hand. 

The  chatter  upstream  ceased  when  Kumbi  and 
Baku  began  to  talk.  A  little  girl  giggled  in  ap- 
proval, and  one  woman,  having  her  sense  of  humor 
well  developed,  was  so  shaken  with  mirth  in  antici- 
pation of  the  coming  dialog  between  the  two  clever 
actors  that  she  was  obliged  to  sit  down  on  the  bank 
and  hold  her  sides. 

"Truly !  But  don't  you  know  that  Mrs.  Mission- 
ary pays  Lelo  for  preaching  to  us  ?"  Kumbi's  voice 
was  shrilly  surprised  in  imparting  the  informing 
question. 

"No!  Is  it  true?"  stammered  Baku,  lifting  with 
one  hand  her  lower  jaw,  which  had  dropped  in 
amazement.  With  wondering  eyes  she  turned  to 
Lelo  and  inquired :  "Do  you  think  that  I  could  get 
work  too?  I  would  like  to  get  pay  for  preaching 
to  these  sinful  women." 

That  was  too  much  for  the  crowd.  The  in- 
terested auditors  did  not  wait  for  Lelo*s  reply ;  they 
had  restrained  themselves  with  considerable  effort 
while  waiting  for  the  gibing  remarks  to  end. 
Baku's  exertion  was  repaid  with  loud  bursts  of 
laughter  which  sent  all  the  four-legged  creatures 
in  the  vicinity  away  into  hiding,  and  caused  the 


112  A  Congo  Chattel 

birds  in  their  alarm  to  fly  away,  or  silently  blot 
themselves  from  sight  behind  the  friendly  branches 
of  the  highest  trees. 

Encouraged  by  their  success,  Baku  nasally 
drawled,  in  exaggerated  mimicry  of  Mrs.  Mission- 
ary's kiKongo  pronunciation,  and  imitating  at  the 
same  time  her  walk  and  gestures, 

"You  women,  why  to  pray  come  you  not?" 

Another  happy  shout  rewarded  this  ape-like  dis- 
play, and  by  mutual  agreement  the  women  resolved 
they  were  having  a  splendid  time;  and  that  the 
stragglers  who  were  late  in  coming  from  the  village 
were  missing  a  great  comedy. 

Kumbi  then  addressed  Lelo,  and  asked  inquisi- 
tively: "Do  they  pay  you  well?" 

"Pay  me?     The  missionaries  pay  me  nothing." 

"What!  No  pay  from  them.  Do  you  mean  to 
say  that  you  work  for  nothing?"  Deep  solicitude 
was  apparent  in  Kumbi's  question;  she  was  seem- 
ingly concerned  about  Lelo's  welfare. 

"No,  indeed  not,"  simply  answered  Lelo,  "I  do 
not  work  for  nothing.  I  am  well  paid;  my  Father 
pays  me." 

"How  does  He  pay,  with  franc  pieces,  in  rum,  or 
cloth?" 

"With  neither,  but  He  gives  me  peace  and  joy 
in  serving  Him  because  He  has  changed  my  heart." 

"Listen,  you  sinful  women,"  jeered  Kumbi,  "Lelo 
says  that  she  has  got  a  new  heart." 

That  was  received  and  bandied  about  with  an- 


BEGINNINGS  AT  MBOKA 


CONGO    VILLAGE 


Serving  a  New  Master  113 

other  uproar  of  ridicule,  and  when  the  hilarious 
cries  had  somewhat  abated,  Kumbi  derisively  con- 
tinued :  "Can  you  see  your  new  heart  ?  What  does 
it  look  like?'* 

Lelo  attended  quietly  to  her  work,  undisturbed 
by  the  hubbub ;  she  had  filled  her  jars,  and  arranged 
them  carefully  in  the  basket,  and  had  taken  her 
bath.  She  took  up  the  basket  to  return  home  to 
her  babies.  She  left  under  a  fire  of  jeers  and  in- 
sults, the  parting  shots  from  a  merry  company  fol- 
lowing her  until  she  was  beyond  reach. 

"We  are  as  good  as  you,"  said  one. 

Another  shouted,  "You  are  crazy !" 

Similar  cries  followed  her  as  she  toiled  up  the 
hill,  bent  almost  double  under  the  heavy  load  of 
water.  The  last  contemptuous  shout  of  "Behold 
the  Teacher !"  reached  her  just  as  she  left  the  valley 
and  disappeared  from  their  view,  entering  the  for- 
est on  the  level  ground. 

Lelo  did  not  like  it  very  much,  but  she  made  no 
reply  to  the  insults.  She  knew  that  her  chance 
would  come  later;  she  would  then  have  better  suc- 
cess when  she  got  them  alone,  one  by  one,  and 
quietly  talked  to  them  about  God  and  His  love  for 
them.  They  were  not  so  bold  when  separated,  and 
she  could  wait. 

Lelo  had  left  them  in  their  heathenism,  so  she 
must  bear  their  revengeful  attacks.  It  was  easier 
in  some  ways  to  stay  with  the  crowd,  but  she  had 
no  desire  to  be  with  them,  or  to  go  back  in  spirit 


114  A  Congo  Chattel 

to  the  darkness  she  had  left  behind.  She  prayed 
and  God  heard  and  sustained  her  in  the  petty  per- 
secutions as  well  as  in  the  greater  tribulations  that 
followed  in  the  course  of  her  checkered  life. 

The  crowd  punctuated  their  sneers  with  mocking 
laughter,  but  Lelo  continued  to  pray  silently.  Lelo 
had  taken  the  best  course  as  it  so  proved  in  the  long 
run. 


ffi 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

A  New  Wife  for  an  Old. 

AVAMBU  was  the  first  in  the  village  to 
discover  a  diiference  in  Lelo's  life;  it 
was  not  long  before  he  observed  the 
change  in  her.  He  by  no  means  relished  the  new 
order :  she  had  been  far  more  agreeable  to  him  in  her 
former  manner  of  life.  He  resented  any  rebuke 
from  her,  for  his  evil  words  and  actions  sometimes 
provoked  a  strong  protest.  Her  talk  about  what 
"the  Lord  said,"  and  what  she  had  learned  from  the 
missionaries,  was  to  him  irritating  chatter  of  the 
most  meaningless  kind.  He  answered  her  with  out- 
bursts of  rage,  and  so  the  breach  widened. 

Undoubtedly,  she  did  make  it  disagreeable  for 
him,  however  little  she  desired  to  do  so.  It  was 
because  of  the  lack  of  harmony  and  fellowship 
between  them  and  her  aversion  to  his  evil  life.  He 
increased  her  burdens  by  his  attitude  toward  her 
and  they  thus  grew  farther  and  farther  apart.  Even 
the  children  were  no  bond  of  union,  so  widely  sepa- 
rated were  the  hopes  and  plans  of  the  parents.  In- 
deed it  was  their  youngest  one  who  at  last  was  the 
means  of  tearing  their  lives  hopelessly  apart. 

Her  baby  boy  was  taken  ill  and  it  was  then  they 
had    their    most    serious    misunderstanding.     The 


ii6  A  Congo  Chattel 

little  sufferer  grew  rapidly  worse  and  nothing  that 
she  could  do  gave  him  more  than  temporary  relief. 
She  knew  so  little  of  means  whereby  to  help  the 
child,  and  it  is  possible  that  he  might  have  been 
better  off  if  she  had  not  attempted  to  assist  him 
with  her  loving  but  mistaken  care. 

Mavambu  loved — if  that  word  could  express  his 
feeling — the  baby.  He  informed  Lelo  that  the  boy 
was  his  child,  and  that  his  heart  was  as  tender 
toward  the  baby  as  was  her  own;  that  in  fact  he 
was  more  concerned  about  getting  the  baby  cured 
than  she  was.  He,  for  his  part,  was  determined 
to  send  for  a  fetich  priest.  The  nganga  would  be 
expensive,  but  what  of  that?  The  child's  life  was 
also  worth  something. 

They  had  to  consider  not  only  the  baby's  suffer- 
ings and  their  own  feelings  in  consequence,  but  also 
the  fact  of  the  boy's  ultimate  worth  if  he  lived  to 
manhood.  They  must  think  of  what  it  would  mean 
in  a  few  years'  time  to  have  the  income  derived  from 
his  labor,  as  well  as  the  consequent  prestige  of  hav- 
ing a  larger  number  in  the  family. 

Lelo  was  unyielding,  and  with  dogged  de- 
termination showing  in  her  face  and  ringing  in  the 
firm  tones  of  her  voice,  she  declared:  "The  boy  is 
mine.     I  alone  will  nurse  him!" 

"If  he  dies,  then  you  will  be  the  cause  of  his 
death.  It  is  you  who  will  kill  him,"  charged  Ma- 
vambu threateningly. 

"I  won't  let  any  witch-doctor  touch  him !" 


A  New  Wife  for  an  Old  117 

"Why  not,  if  he  can  heal  the  child?" 

"Better  for  him  to  die  than  to  have  the  devil  make 
him  well,"  answered  she  with  unusual  boldness  and 
refusing  to  be  moved. 

Mavambu  by  that  time  had  the  undisguised  sym- 
pathy of  the  crowd  which,  at  the  first  sound  of 
loud  words,  had  quickly  collected  at  Lelo's  hut. 
She  was  openly  and  recklessly  defiant  of  their  clam- 
orous opinions  and  was  not  to  be  frightened  from 
her  position. 

The  mother  crouched  on  the  ground  over  the  fire 
of  glowing  wood  coals  just  outside  her  door,  croon- 
ing to  the  restless  child  tightly  clasped  to  her  breast. 
The  heat  was  grateful  to  the  little  one  who  was  in 
pain.  Lelo  feared,  and  not  without  reason, 
that  someone  would  endeavor  to  tear  her  treasure 
from  her  arms.  She  looked  about  timidly,  like  a 
hunted  animal  preparing  for  attack. 

One  of  her  neighbors  growled  out  her  feeling  of 
disgust  for  such  an  unnatural  mother  who  would 
wilfully  and  obstinately  allow  her  child  to  die, 
rather  than  accept  the  help  she  might  have  for  the 
asking.  This  neighbor  seemed  to  voice  the  senti- 
ment of  the  other  women.  They  received  her 
speech  with  approving  grunts  and  nods. 

The  long-suffering  Mavambu  was  heartened  by 
the  kindly  expressed  sympathy  and  encouragement 
of  those  good  souls  who  understood  his  case  so 
well  and  who  could  commiserate  with  him  in  this 
new  conjugal  difficulty. 


ii8  A  Congo  Chattel 

Looking  around  at  them  appreciatively  with  a 
bleary  expression  of  gratitude,  and  in  an  effort  to 
win  their  whole-hearted  approval  of  the  very 
sensible  and  moderate  means  he  was  employing 
with  his  refractory  chattel,  he  demonstrated  his 
reasonable  attitude  by  demanding  of  Lelo : 

"What  do  you  mean  by  'make  him  well  by  the 
devir?  I  only  said  that  I  wanted  to  send  for 
Mpeso  Luamba  to  cure  the  baby.  Do  you  call 
Mpeso  the  devil  ?" 

"The  devil  has  people  to  do  his  work !  Devil  or 
no  devil  Luamba  shall  not  touch  my  baby !" 

She  hugged  the  child  closer,  so  tightly  indeed 
that  the  feverish  little  one  cried  out,  and  pushed 
at  the  restraining  arms.  It  was  from  no  lack  of 
love  that  Lelo  refused  the  assistance  of  the  Nganga. 

Mavambu,  dropping  his  head  to  one  side,  and 
straining  with  his  right  ear  scooped  in  his  hand 
to  catch  the  words,  was  deeply  moved  at  such  a 
reply.  The  rebellious  attitude  of  his  own  law- 
fully acquired  property  stirred  him  to  righteous  in- 
dignation. What  a  base  return  for  all  the  kindness 
that  had  been  lavished  upon  her  and  for  redeeming 
her  from  slavery  in  the  hands  of  Kungu*s  heir! 
She  actually  talked  now  as  if  she  owned  herself 
and  as  if  she  possessed  sole  rights  over  the  child. 
What  a  pernicious  doctrine  to  publish,  especially 
before  the  other  women.  Who  could  tell  where 
such  teachings  would  lead  them?     Rank  disobedi- 


A  New  Wife  for  an  Old  119 

ence  was  bad  enough  indeed,  but  how  much  worse 
to  excuse  it  with  such  destructive  beliefs. 

Things  had  certainly  reached  a  sad  state  of  con- 
fusion in  his  village  when  a  woman  dared  to  talk 
to  her  owner  in  such  a  way.  Lelo's  unwarranted 
and  cool  disposal  of  his  own  child,  his  own  flesh 
and  blood,  his  own  property,  loudly  demanded  sud- 
den and  dire  punishment.  His  wrath,  under  the 
circumstances,  was  very  excusable. 

Mavambu  felt,  though,  that  it  would  not  be  wise 
for  him  to  press  the  matter  too  suddenly.  Notwith- 
standing that  he  was  well  within  his  rights  it  would 
be  better  to  allow  her  to  have  her  own  headstrong 
way  for  a  time,  rather  than  by  hasty  action  to 
drive  her  to  desperation.  Mavambu  was  far  from 
being  sure  about  this  latest  addition  to  his  number 
of  wives,  and  sometimes  he  wondered  after  all 
whether  his  kindness  and  his  affection  had  not  been 
sadly  misplaced. 

"The  child  is  mine,"  said  he,  "and  you  too  belong 
to  me.  It  is  for  me  to  do  what  I  please  with  my 
own ;  for  you  to  obey  and  obey  only." 

With  an  eloquent  gesture,  and  not  even  raising 
her  eyes,  she  shrugged  her  naked  shoulders,  and 
banished  the  "man's  rights"  argument.  Concerned 
only  with  her  fretting  baby,  she  remarked  simply: 
"The  Word  of  God  forbids  us  having  any  dealings 
with  the  devil." 

Screams  of  angry  protest  greeted  her  words,  and 
a  loud-voiced  woman  immediately  volunteered  the 


I20  A  Congo  Chattel 

right  prescription  for  Lelo's  case.  However  it 
might  be  with  the  baby,  there  was  absolutely  no 
question  as  to  the  kind  of  medicine  Lelo's  trouble 
demanded.  She  instructed  Mavambu  in  hoarse, 
angry  tones,  and  suggested  a  good,  or  a  bad,  whip- 
ping for  the  addle-pated  wretch  he  had  been  be- 
guiled into  taking  to  his  bosom. 

Determined  Congo  women  sometimes  do  have 
their  own  way,  but  in  this  instance  Lelo  was  so 
palpably  in  the  wrong  that  she  alienated  the  sym- 
pathy of  even  her  best  friends.  She  was  at  last 
overpowered  by  public  opinion  and  brute  force. 

The  witch-doctor  was  summoned.  Lelo  was 
roughly  handled  and  thrust  into  the  background 
to  sob  out  her  distress  after  the  boy  had  been  torn 
from  her  arms.  Mpeso  went  through  with  the  or- 
dinary performance,  and  it  resulted  finally  in  an- 
other child  victim  being  sacrificed  upon  the  altar 
of  a  religion  of  lies.  Another  weight  was  thus 
added  to  the  already  overladen  shoulders  of  the 
mother.     Lelo  grieved  for  her  boy. 

When  Mavambu's  latest  trial  with  his  irrational 
chattel  was  noised  abroad  among  the  villages  of 
the  neighborhood,  other  husbands  began  to  take 
notice,  and  to  inquire  into  teachings  that  influenced 
so  unfavorably  their  domestic  welfare.  After  much 
discussion  it  was  seriously  agreed  upon  by  the  prop- 
erty owners  that  the  Vula  was  a  dangerous  place 
for  women.  They  did  not  so  much  mind  the  hymn 
singing,  and  the  spelling  sheets,  but  such  a  prac- 


A  New  Wife  for  an  Old  121 

tical  demonstration  of  the  teachings  instilled  into 
silly  heads  at  the  Chapel  showed  them  plainly  that 
danger  was  ahead. 

The  women  were  all  charged  by  their  lords  to 
keep  away  from  the  Vula,  especially  from  the 
women's  meetings.  They  were  threatened  with  sum- 
mary punishment  should  they  fail  to  obey.  On  the 
whole  it  was  decided  that  prevention  was  far  better 
than  cure  in  dealing  with  such  an  ailment.  The 
heresy  to  which  Lelo  had  succumbed  was  akin  to 
kindoki.  The  Vula  was  placed  under  a  ban  and 
boycotted.  They  did  not  mean  to  go  through  in 
their  own  individual  cases  any  such  experiences  as 
those  with  which  Mavambu  had  been  troubled,  if 
they  could  possibly  avoid  it. 

Then  it  was  that  the  Vula  became  unspeakably 
bad,  and  all  connected  with  it,  both  black  and 
white,  were  hypocritical  schemers.  There  was 
nothing  of  good  remembered,  and  nothing  too  mean 
to  rake  up  and  exaggerate  in  condemnation  of  the 
offending  Mission.  All  material  benefits  received 
by  them  since  the  place  was  opened  and  innumer- 
able kindnesses  and  help  in  trouble  and  sickness 
were  too  readily  forgotten.  All  benefits  and  kind 
deeds  were  swept  away  on  a  wave  of  suspicion  and 
anger,  and  many  would  have  been  glad  to  see  the 
Vula,  buildings  and  members  alike,  ousted  from 
their  country  for  all  time. 

These  hard  feelings  affected  the  attendance  at 
the  school,  the  children  quickly  absorbing  the  has- 


122  A  Congo  Chattel 

tile  sentiments  of  the  elders.  The  services  were 
mostly  attended  by  those  living  at  the  station,  since 
going  to  church  was  so  unpopular  with  the  villagers. 
Under  the  storm  of  abuse  the  missionaries  could 
only  quietly  plod  along  and  pray  for  better  days 
and  brighter  skies.  In  it  all  they  thought  that  it 
was  much  better  to  have  disapproval  and  even  per- 
secution than  to  suffer  from  indifference  and 
neglect. 

Mavambu  was  a  black  Lothario,  although  by  no 
means  could  he  be  described  as  gay.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  was  the  owner  of  a  forbidding,  funereal 
countenance,  and  gave  utterance  to  his  momentous 
thoughts  in  a  most  dismal  manner.  He  was  never 
satisfied  with  the  number  of  women  in  his  posses- 
sion and  was  always  on  the  lookout  for  one  more. 

His  women  were  always  dissatisfied  with  his 
improvidence  and  neglect  and  were  ever  trying 
to  get  away  from  him  into  better  hands.  He  failed 
to  furnish  cloth  for  his  own  human  belongings,  but 
always  had  plenty  to  waste  upon  strangers.  The 
women  even  lacked  tools  to  do  the  work  demanded 
by  him  in  their  gardens,  and  he  even  neglected  to 
repair  their  huts  as  any  dutiful  Mayombe  proprietor 
was  morally  bound  to  do.  So  although  he  was 
always  in  search  of  new  women,  he  was  not  popular 
with  his  old  ones. 

Lelo  sometimes  mustered  up  courage  enough  to 
rebuke  him  for  his  evil  actions  and  neglect,  and  this 
never   failed  to  call   forth  threats  of  vengeance, 


A  New  Wife  for  an  Old  123 

After  being  particularly  abusive  one  day  he  an- 
nounced his  determination  to  seek  another  wife 
for  his  comfort — one  who  would  understand  him 
better,  and  care  for  him  more.  It  was  unbearable, 
so  he  informed  Lelo,  to  be  met  always  with  the  bit- 
ing words  of  an  old  woman  whenever  he  came  to 
her  hut.  He  had  in  mind,  so  he  continued,  a  dear 
little  thing,  very  gentle  and  attractive,  who  would 
be  delighted  and  honored  in  being  permitted  to 
become  his  wife  and  have  the  privilege  of  cheering 
him  with  loving  speeches  along  his  arduous  way. 

Thus  it  was  that  Mavambu  made  Lelo's  rebuke 
an  excuse  for  setting  out  on  his  quest  for  Simba. 
Indeed  the  girl  was  no  sudden  fancy,  but  a  child 
upon  whom  his  appraising  eyes  had  long  and  long- 
ingly rested.  She  was  diminutive  and  slender  and 
aged  about  fifteen  years,  the  only  daughter  of  de- 
ceased Mayala,  her  father  being  old  Chief  Noki. 
Since  her  mother's  death  she  had  been  living  at 
Kimbusu  with  some  of  her  maternal  relatives,  to 
whom  she  had  reverted  w^hen  left  an  orphan. 

Mayala  had  been  the  faithful  wife  of  Chief 
Noki,  the  father  of  Simba.  When  Noki  passed 
away  Mayala  fell  into  Mavambu's  hands  and  so 
became  his  property.  Mayala  was  a  wise  woman 
in  her  day  and  proved  a  valuable  addition  to  Ma- 
vambu's fortune.  He  was  full  of  joy  over  his 
acquisition,  but  alas,  his  happiness  was  destined  to 
be  short-lived.  Mayala  remained  only  a  few  years 
in  his  possession,  and  then  died  suddenly  before 


124  A  Congo  Chattel 

he  had  ceased  to  congratulate  himself  upon  his  good 
fortune. 

The  death  of  Mayala  pressed  heavily  upon  Ma- 
vambu.  Not  only  was  it  a  natural  burden  of  sor- 
row at  her  departure  and  the  consequent  funeral 
expenses,  but  he  was  further  weighted  down  by 
the  feeling  that  he  had  been  rankly  imposed  upon. 
Looking  about  him  he  saw  men,  not  so  worthy  as 
himself,  having  wives  who  had  kept  well,  and  had 
lived  many  working  years  to  add  to  the  prestige 
and  power  of  the  clan;  but  here  was  Mayala, 
the  best  of  his  lot,  dying  while  still  in  her  prime. 

The  fact  that  Mayala's  male  relatives  at  Kim- 
busu  were  far  from  strong  numerically  or  rich  in 
this  world's  goods,  had  a  lot  to  do  with  Mavambu's 
toleration  of  this  additional  burden  of  grief.  He 
would  have  let  it  go  at  that,  when  he  had  laid  her 
broken  pots  on  the  grave  and  had  tied  her  best  red 
handkerchief  on  a  pole  above  it,  if  there  had  been 
no  hope  of  getting  some  intrinsically  valuable  con- 
solation from  her  people.  He  would  have  sum- 
marily dismissed  his  added  grief,  and  never  have 
mentioned  it,  had  it  not  happily  occurred  to  him 
that  he  might  be  able  to  turn  his  sorrow  to  good 
account. 

"On  the  whole,"  said  he,  in  making  confidences 
to  his  cronies,  "it  was  decidedly  unfair  for  Mayala 
to  die  upon  my  hands  before  I  had  realized  much 
from  her."  He  waxed  indignant  at  the  rude 
shattering  of  the  happy  fabric  of  his  dreams  about 


A  New  Wife  for  an  Old  125 

her,  and  the  ruthless  robbery  of  his  family  hearth 
by  the  hidden  hand  of  witchcraft.  True,  Mayala 
had  served  Noki  faithfully  for  years,  but  Mavambu 
of  course  could  not  reasonably  be  expected  to 
reckon  that  to  her  credit  in  his  accounts.  He  con- 
cluded on  the  whole  that  he  had  been  greatly  ill- 
used. 

So  all  in  good  time,  after  turning  over  the  whole 
aifair  for  inspection  by  his  friends,  and  after  set- 
tling the  matter  in  his  own  mind,  Mavambu  decided 
he  ought  to  demand  another  woman  from  Mayala's 
relatives  to  replace  his  own  untimely  loss.  He 
simply  must,  he  felt,  have  some  compensation  for 
the  expenses  incurred  in  burying  her,  and  as  balm 
to  his  broken  heart.  And  then,  as  has  been  said, 
Mfumu  Busu  was  not  a  powerful  chief,  nor  one 
who  could  afford  to  turn  unceremoniously  from  the 
recital  of  Mavambu's  sorrow. 

With  the  high,  hot  sun  shining  full  upon  his 
badge  of  bffice — the  great  pewter  medal  dangling 
at  the  end  of  a  nickel  chain  fastened  about  his 
neck,  and  resting)  upon  the  bosom  of  his  long- 
tailed  black  coat,  Mavambu  entered  Kimbusu.  He 
was  followed  by  a  few  intimate  friends,  shining  in 
the  reflected  glory  of  the  Medal  Chief,  for  Ma- 
vambu had  reached  the  dignity  of  local  representa- 
tive of  the  government.  Mavambu  had  come  for 
the  purpose  of  appealing  to  Mayala*s  people  con- 
cerning the  matter  of  compensation. 

Hastily  seeking  the  shelter  of  Mfumu  Busu's 


126  A  Congo  Chattel 

hospitable  veranda  they  seated  themselves  in  its 
refreshing  shade.  All  eyes  were  fixed  upon  a 
demijohn,  apparently  heavy,  that  one  of  their  num- 
ber put  away  in  a  safe  place  where  it  could  not  be 
upset  by  the  goats  or  pigs.  The  noises  of  the 
people  at  their  customary  occupations  ceased,  and 
an  apprehensive  and  curious  silence  fell  upon  the 
town. 

Busu  had  been  sounded  by  an  envoy  of  Ma- 
vambu's,  sent  some  time  before,  but  neither  then 
nor  now  was  the  Chief  favorably  inclined  toward 
Mavambu's  claim.  He  was  not  disposed  to  pay  out 
cloth,  or  to  give  up  a  slave  upon  any  such  pretext, 
unless  absolutely  compelled  to  do  so. 

When  Chief  Busu  made  his  appearance,  after 
the  customary  greetings,  he  told  Mavambu  that 
as  far  as  he  was  concerned  he  considered  the 
whole  affair  had  been  settled  when  Noki  died  and 
that  Noki  had  received  full  value  for  his  original 
outlay;  that  in  fact  Noki  had  been  a  heavy  gainer, 
as  Mayala  had  turned  out  to  be  an  especially  good 
bargain. 

"Truly,"  he  protested,  "she  was  a  good  wife, 
and  Noki  more  than  got  back  the  dowry  goods." 

Mavambu  was  crafty  enough  to  admit  a  part 
of  this  contention,  and  to  agree  that  she  had  been 
a  good  wife  to  the  late  Noki. 

"But,"  replied  he,  "we  are  no  longer  deal- 
ing with  Noki.  What  about  me?  She  was  my 
property  too.     I  fell  heir  to  her.     Surely  you  will 


A  New  Wife  for  an  Old  127 

not  contend  that  I  got  much  good  from  her  ?  Why 
she  died  on  my  hands  at  once — almost!" 

"Women  die  every  day.  What  did  you  expect — 
that  she  would  work  forever?" 

Mavambu  was  complacently  disposed  to  ac- 
knowledge that  women  died  frequently,  and  often 
when  disappointingly  young,  but  pressing  his  argu- 
ment kindly,  he  said, 

"I  expected  several  more  good  years  and  ought 
to  have  had  at  least  one  child  to  lighten  my  old 
age." 

Sighing  deeply  in  memory  of  the  departed,  and 
the  attendant  troubles,  and  fixing  Busu  with  an  ac- 
cusing eye,  he  continued, 

"About  all  that  I  got  from  Mayala  was  the 
heavy  funeral  expense  account  I  was  obliged  to 
pay." 

"Men  always  bury  their  own  women!" 

"Certainly.  And  when  they  have  first  had  some 
advantage,  they  can  bury  them  with  a  good  heart. 
But  in  the  case  m  question,  you  of  course  are  the 
one  who  ought  to  be  made  responsible  for  the 
debt." 

"She  had  a  funeral  almost  as  good  as  if  she  had 
been  a  man,"  interjected  Paka  reproachfully. 

And  to  this  agreed  friend  Makwala  who  even 
mentioned  in  detail  the  various  kinds  of  cloth  used 
for  Mayala's  shroud,  and  enumerated  a  few  of  the 
valuable  articles  that  had  been  broken  and  laid  upon 
her  grave. 


12$  A  Congo  Chattel 

Mavambu  wagged  his  head  mournfully,  but 
whether  in  memory  of  his  departed  wife,  or  of  the 
wasted  valuables,  or  both,  he  failed  to  make  clear 
to  the  observers  by  any  enlightening  comment 
upon  Makwala's  speech. 

Busu  stoutly  contended  that  all  such  talk  was 
foreign  to  the  matter  in  hand;  that  it  was  con- 
trary to  all  established  custom  to  hold  any  man 
responsible  for  furnishing  a  substitute,  after  a 
woman  had  lived  with  her  husband  as  long  as  May- 
ala  had  done.  He  claimed  that  she  had  fulfilled  all 
reasonable  expectations,  and  urged  that  she  had  a 
perfect  right  to  die  when  she  did,  being  under 
no  obligation  to  anybody  to  live  longer. 

The  old  Chief  indignantly  contended  that  he  him- 
self had  gotten  no  more  than  he  had  been  entitled 
to,  and  that  the  dowry  had  been  a  very  moderate 
one  to  begin  with.  He  said  finally  that  to  ask  him 
to  replace  the  woman  now  was  an  imposition,  and 
one  to  which  he  would  not  tamely  submit ! 

Mavambu  dolefully  observed  that  he  thought  that 
Busu  knew  very  well,  and  that  it  would  have  been 
superfluous  to  remind  him  that  some  customs  had 
changed  since  the  advent  of  the  White  Man.  To 
him  it  seemed  childish  to  harp  on  the  way  things 
i^ed  to  be.  He  ventured  to  cite  several  instances 
of  how  the  White  Man — his  White  Man — by  whom 
he  was  employed,  had  gotten  full  justice  for  other 
medal  chiefs  like  himself,  when  unscrupulous  na- 
tives had  been  inclined  to  impose  upon  the  said 


BAPTISMAL  SERVICE,  KINKONZI 


A  MISSIONARY  HOME  AT  YEMA 


A  New  Wife  for  an  Old  129 

medal  chiefs.  He  disliked  greatly  bringing  his  own 
affairs  to  the  busy  attention  of  his  White  Man, 
but  hinted  that  however  much  against  his  will, 
he  might  be  obliged  to  do  so  in  the  present  in- 
stance, if  he  were  not  fairly  treated. 

Busu  was  of  course  visibly  impressed  by  the 
weight  of  the  argument  and  by  the  moderate  way 
in  which  Mavambu  advanced  it.  Busu  soon  after 
manifested  a  more  tractable  spirit,  and  could  not 
resist  the  righteous  claims  of  his  adversary — that 
is  to  say,  he  found  them  irresistible  when  pre- 
sented in  such  a  manner,  coupled  with  the  name 
of  his  White  Man. 

When  Mavambu  and  his  loyal  friends  left  Kim- 
busu,  they  left  behind  them  the  red-striped,  wicker- 
covered  bottle.  It  was  generously  left  half  filled 
with  the  fiery  stuff  in  which  they  had  pledged  the 
prosperity  of  Mavambu  and  his  "bride."  When 
they  returned  to  Yenge  their  caravan  included  the 
girl  Simba,  en  route  to  her  new  "home." 


CHAPTER    IX. 
A  Generous  Husband. 

QATURALLY,  Mavambu  was  at  first  very 
kind  to  his  new  child  wife,  as  he  wished 
to  impress  her  with  his  generosity  and 
worth  as  a  husband.  Wishing  to  show  her  a  kind- 
ness, at  no  cost  to  himself,  he  happily  hit  upon  the 
following  plan.  He  resolved  to  divide  Lelo's  rich 
garden  and  to  give  a  half -share  to  Simba,  who 
did  not  own  a  single  fruit-bearing  tree,  or  possess 
even  a  tiny  patch  of  cultivated  ground. 

It  occurred  to  far-seeing  Mavambu  that  he 
might  thus,  so  to  say,  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone ; 
not  only  would  he  serve  Simba  and  win  her  lively 
gratitude,  but  he  could  at  the  same  time  punish 
Lelo,  the  refractory  and  foolish  owner  of  the  fields, 
and  so  make  her  understand  in  a  practical  way 
that  he  was  a  lord  not  to  be  trifled  with. 

Lelo  was  a  hard-working  woman;  she  had  ac- 
quired the  spirit  of  industry  when  young,  and  it 
had  become  a  fixed  habit.  By  the  diligent  use  of 
her  hoe  and  the  tiny  bladed  axe,  she  had  made  a 
clearing  in  the  jungle,  and  had  vegetable  and 
fruit  gardens  under  cultivation.  The  garden  was  her 
whole  source  of  income;  from  it  she  derived  sus- 
tenance for  herself  and  her  little  ones;  and  got  in 


A  Generous  Husband  131 

addition  the  savory,  red-peppered  vegetable  stews 
with  which  she  regularly  supplied  her  lord  as  his 
portion  of  the  returns  for  her  labor. 

Simba's  fields  were  still  in  prospect,  they  were 
yet  to  be  cut  and  dug  out  of  an  unyielding  soil 
and  a  dense  tangle  of  trees,  vines,  and  roots  that 
encumbered  the  coveted  spot.  There  was,  of 
course,  plenty  of  community  land  she  might  have 
had  for  the  choosing,  but  much  hard  work  was 
required,  and  a  long,  hungry  intervening  time  must 
ensue  before  a  yam  or  a  banana  or  a  bit  of  manioc 
root  could  be  harvested.  She  had  all  to  battle 
for  with  the  mass  of  hindering  jungle.  Simba  re- 
called with  a  sigh  that  at  Kimbusu  she  had  made 
good  headway;  but  Kimbusu  was  left  behind  her. 
She  was  now  a  stranger,  living  on  charity,  having 
nothing  but  her  basket,  a  pot  or  two,  a  hoe,  and 
part  share  of  a  husband  to  feed. 

The  husband  Mavambu,  generous  soul,  prepared 
a  bit  of  a  surprise  for  the  dear  girl.  He  called  her 
to  him  one  morning,  soon  after  her  arrival,  and 
with  an  air  of  mystery  informed  her  that  she  was 
to  go  with  him  on  a  short  journey.  She  of  course 
accompanied  him  without  question,  and  after  a  lei- 
surely walk  they  soon  reached  Lelo's  clearing  and 
saw  the  rich  field  spread  out  attractively  before 
them. 

Mavambu,  with  that  spirit  of  liberality  that  some 
people  possess  when  dealing  with  the  property  of 
others,  royally  apportioned  to  Simba  an  ample  slice 


132  A  Congo  Chattel 

of  the  garden.  With  a  magnificent  wave  of  his 
bountiful  hand,  he  said,  pointing  to  a  fire- smitten, 
leafless  skeleton  of  a  tree,  whose  dreary  branches 
were  clearly  silhouetted  against  a  background  of 
gray  sky  : 

"There  is  your  boundary  mark;  from  that  tree 
to  here  where  we  stand  is  all  yours." 

Simba  looked  and  gasped.  She  could  only  mur- 
mur unintelligible  thanks,  overcome  as  she  was  with 
wonder  at  her  sudden  great  good  fortune.  She 
gazed  upon  Mavambu  with  admiring  awe. 

He  playfully  pinched  her  arm,  and  smilingly  con- 
firmed the  gift,  saying  cheerfully, 

"Yes,  it  is  true.  It  is  all  thine;  the  ground, 
and  all  that  you  see  growing  thereon." 

He  expatiated  upon  the  peculiar  value  of  his  gift, 
and  the  appropriateness  of  it  at  that  time  of  the 
year  and  at  that  particular  season  of  Simba's  for- 
tunes. Incidentally  he  made  mention  of  the  free- 
handed way  in  which  he  was  accustomed  to  deal 
with  those  who  put  their  trust  in  him  and  who 
might  be  under  his  generous  protecting  care. 

Simba,  overwhelmed,  was  still  trying  to  convey 
to  him  her  deep  appreciation  of  his  goodness,  when 
Lelo  appeared.  They  saw  her  coming  from  the 
path  that  crossed  at  the  other  end  of  the  field.  She 
made  her  way  carefully  over  the  obstructions, 
left  there  for  vines  to  climb  upon,  into  the  midst 
of  her  garden  plot. 

When  Lelo  saw  them,  she  slackened  her  pace, 


A  Generous  Husband  133 

somewhat  surprised  to  see  the  two  standing  to- 
gether in  her  garden,  trying  to  account  in  her  own 
mind  for  their  being  there.  Unfortunately  for 
their  peace  of  mind  she  was  not  long  in  finding  out 
the  matter  under  consideration.  Her  own  eyes  and 
the  few  words  of  explanation  vouchsafed  by  her 
lord  enlightened  her  as  to  the  nature  of  the  pro- 
ceedings. At  once  she  most  emphatically  vetoed 
Mavambu's  generous  action. 

A  tiny  scratch,  drawing  but  one  drop  of  red 
blood,  calls  for  bitter  retaliation,  or  an  emollient 
in  the  shape  of  valuables  to  atone  for  the  offense, 
and  it  is  almost  as  bad  to  wound  the  Congolese  in 
property  rights  by  taking  any  part  of  their  belong- 
ings.    Lelo  was  being  injured  in  a  tender  place. 

She  sternly  remonstrated, 

"With  my  own  hands  I  made  them.  These  gardens 
belong  to  me !" 

"No  matter,"  replied  Mavambu,  gently  evading 
the  objection,  in  rare  good  humor  with  himself  and 
trying  to  conciliate  her;  "there's  land  enough,  and 
food  enough  too,  for  you  both." 

"There  is  not  enough  in  this  patch  for  Simba!" 

"She  is  a  stranger.     Is  she  to  have  no  garden?" 

"That  is  'not  affair  mine.'  Me,  I  did  not  bring 
her  to  this  country." 

"Don't  try  to  make  trouble.  There  is  enough 
for  us  all,  and  for  little  Simba  too,"  argued  Ma- 
vambu pacifically. 

Lelo  was  inexorable.     She  would  not  be  mollified 


134  A  Congo  Chattel 

and  doggedly  declined  to  be  moved  from  her 
position. 

"No!  I  tell  you  again,  there's  only  enough  for 
my  children,  besides  what  you  eat." 

Waxing  more  indignant  under  the  injustice  and 
recalling  all  she  had  done  for  him  and  the  little 
return  she  got,  she  added: 

"It*s  hard  enough  for  me  to  feed  you,  without 
your  new  woman  being  thrust  upon  me!  Let  her 
work  as  I  have  done,  or  else  you  buy  food  for  her." 

Lelo  was  hurt  to  see  how  little  she  had  been  con- 
sidered, and  was  greatly  stirred  by  the  deliberate 
way  in  which  Mavambu  went  about  the  business 
of  despoiling  her,  without  even  an  intimation  of  his 
intentions  in  advance.  She  meant  to  stand  up  for 
her  rights,  and  she  knew  that  every  unprejudiced 
person  in  the  community  would  agree  with  her, 
even  if  they  feared  to  express  themselves,  that  Ma- 
vambu had  absolutely  no  claim  upon  her  property. 

Mavambu  was  without  a  shadow  of  legal  sup- 
port, and  had  not  even  a  flimsy  pretext  of  custom 
to  cover  his  naked  extortion.  He  argued  how- 
ever as  if  every  moral  consideration  were  on  his 
side,  and  as  though  he  deserved  credit  for  his 
patience  in  explaining  the  matter  at  such  length  to 
his  obtuse  partner. 

Bearing  patiently  with  her  obtuseness  he  went  on 
to  explain: 

"You  know  that  it  is  too  late  in  the  season  for 
Simba  to  clear  and  plant  another  patch?" 


A  Generous  Husband  135 

"The  season  is  no  affair  of  mine,  and  what  have 
I  to  do  with  Simba?" 

Mavambu  was  beginning  to  be  vexed.  Who 
would  not  be,  confronted  by  such  stubbornness.  He 
lost  his  smirk,  and  changed  his  soft  tones  for  sterner 
accents,  determining  to  put  the  matter  through  with 
no  further  waste  of  time.     Said  he: 

"I  have  already  given  Simba  a  share  of  these 
fields.  The  boundary  has  been  set  by  me.  It  is 
finished!" 

'  "No !  You  shall  not  rob  me  of  my  support ;  me 
with  my  children  to  raise.  Their  portion  shall  not 
go  to  any  childless  girl !" 

Seeing  there  would  be  serious  trouble,  Mavambu 
became  the  more  quickly  enraged,  especially  since 
he  had  no  good  excuse  for  his  shameful  act.  Even 
Mayombe  women,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  have 
some  recognized  rights.  Only  by  a  high-handed  act 
of  injustice  could  he  take  any  part  of  Lelo's  garden. 
Dropping  altogether  his  argumentative  and  oily 
manner  and  losing  control  of  himself  he  threatened 
and  cursed  her  for  her  obstinacy. 

Lelo  was  not  greatly  shaken,  and  answered  his 
insulting  menaces  with  the  retort: 

"I  shall  keep  my  own.  I  will  not  consent  to  be 
robbed  of  it." 

"I  will  take  what  I  want  then  without  your  con- 
sent," he  roared,  advancing  toward  her  with  up- 
lifted matchete  in  hand,  as  if  he  would  cut  her  out 


136  A  Congo  Chattel 

of  the  way  of  his  plans.  He  was  exasperated  be- 
yond measure,  and  shouted : 

"Get  out  of  my  sight,  or  I'll  kill  you!  Me,  I 
want  a  young  wife  with  sense,  not  an  old  meddling 
fool  like  you.     Go  quickly,  before  I  cut  you  down !" 

She  looked  straight  and  fearlessly  into  his  palm- 
wine-streaked  and  wrath-reddened  eyes.  Without 
further  word  of  expostulation  she  turned  and  left 
them,  saying  simply, 

"Good,  I  go  then!" 

When  Mavambu  came  to  his  senses  he  found 
that  she  had  taken  him  at  his  word.  She  had  left, 
but  had  gone  a  great  deal  farther  than  he  had  in- 
tended. Lelo  knew  almost  at  once  what  she  would 
do;  her  plan  was  quickly  formed  while  hurrying 
back  to  the  village. 

She  gathered  from  her  hut  the  few  poor  trifles 
she  owned,  and  piled  them  into  her  basket.  Fasten- 
ing the  baby  upon  her  hip  with  a  piece  of  cloth 
wound  about  his  chubby  body,  and  then  over  her 
shoulder,  and  with  her  little  girls  trotting  along  by 
her  side,  she  marched  straight  away  to  Yenge  Vula. 

Lelo  with  the  babies  entered  the  gate  of  the 
Mission  and  walked  across  the  mango  tree  and 
pineapple-bordered  plaza  up  to  the  house.  She 
swung  the  heavy  basket  from  her  back  to  the 
ground,  and  then  sat  down  on  the  floor  of  the 
veranda.  She  hitched  the  baby  around  in  front 
to  nurse,  as  if  preparing  for  a  long  visit.  She 
dumbly   waited,    as    customary   with   the   taciturn 


A  Generous  Husband  137 

Mayombe  women,  for  Mrs.  Missionary  to  open  the 
conversation. 

When  Mrs.  Missionary  appeared,  she  learned  all 
about  Lelo's  welfare  and  the  health  of  the  babies 
before  she  noticed  that  something  was  wrong,  and 
then  asked: 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

"We  have  come  to  live  with  you." 

"With  me !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Missionary.  "What 
about  Mavambu?" 

"He  has  driven  me  away!" 

"What!"  Of  course  such  a  statement  called  for 
an  exclamation  of  astonishment.  Who  would  not 
wonder  at  valuable  property  being  driven  away  by 
the  owner  J  even  if  one  could  see  good  reasons  why 
the  said  property  would  like  to  flee  on  its  own  initi- 
ative. 

"He  said  he  would  kill  me  if  I  didn't  go  quick." 

"What  is  the  trouble  about?" 

"He  gave  half  of  my  garden  to  Simba." 

"No,  he  couldn't  do  that.  He  will  change  his 
mind,"  encouraged  Mrs.  Missionary. 

"No,  he  won't.  He  hates  me  too  because  I  love 
the  words  of  God.  Mama,  I  can't  stay  with  him 
any  longer;  I  want  to  live  with  you." 

"But,  Lelo,  as  a  Christian  I  think  that  you  would 
do  more  good  living  among  the  women  in  your  own 
town." 

"I  do  like  to  be  with  the  other  women,  and 
don't  mind  much  when  they  laugh  at  me.  Some  of 


138  A  Congo  Chattel 

them  don't  mean  the  foolish  things  they  say,  and 
are  really  thinking  much  about  the  words  of  God. 
But  Mavambu  drove  me  away,  and  I  will  never  go 
back  to  his  village.  We  want  to  stay  here  with 
you." 

Lelo,  by  the  comprehensive  "we,"  enlisted  the 
aid  of  her  dear  little  girl  who,  clinging  close  to  her 
side,  looked  up  coyly  into  the  troubled  face  of  Mrs. 
Missionary.  Lelo  this  time  got  her  own  way,  and 
was  temporarily  installed  as  a  member  of  the  mis- 
sionary family  before  the  fires  of  Mavambu's 
wrath  cooled. 

It  was  soon  spread  broadcast  that  Lelo  had 
taken  refuge  with  the  Teacher  of  God,  and  the 
Nganga  a  Nzamhi  became  the  target  for  much  un- 
merited abuse  and  many  malicious  tales.  As  soon  as 
Mavambu  discovered  that  some  of  his  property  had 
strayed  so  far  away  he  decided  upon  getting  Lelo 
back  to  the  village  at  once  and  by  all  means.  It 
was  not  until  after  he  felt  the  loss  that  he  began 
to  appreciate  her  worth.  He  determined  to  bring 
about  a  reconciliation  as  soon  as  possible. 

Next  day  he  mustered  up  courage  to  face  the 
people  over  at  the  Vula,  and  went  along  to  talk  the 
palaver.  He  knew  that  now  there  would  be  others 
who  would  have  a  word  to  say,  and  that  he  would 
have  to  explain  matters  satisfactorily  to  the  mis- 
sionaries. 

Dressed  in  his  medal-bedecked  official  garment 
and  assuming  his  most  engaging  manner  he  ap- 


A  Generous  Husband  139 

peared  in  front  of  the  Mission  House.  Not  a 
trace  of  resentment  was  visible  on  his  seamy  coun- 
tenance, nor  to  be  heard  in  the  pleasant  saluta- 
tions with  which  he  met  the  company  that  quickly 
gathered.  Knowing  full  well  that  the  Vula  people 
would  object  to  any  bullying  language,  or  the  use 
of  a  stick,  he  wisely  tried  to  confine  his  speech  to 
persuasive  tones,  and  sweetly  endeavored  to  induce 
Lelo  to  compromise.  Without  mentioning  the  gar- 
den he  begged  that  she  return  to  his  aching  heart 
and  empty  hut. 

But  it  was  all  labor  lost;  Lelo  would  not  be  any 
more  enticed  by  his  fair  speeches  at  the  Mission 
today,  than  she  was  frightened  by  his  matchete  out 
in  her  garden  patch  yesterday. 

Mavambu  at  last  was  obliged  to  compromise  with 
his  own  plans,  and  with  a  good  show  of  grace  he 
allowed  blandly: 

"Since  you  wish  so  much  to  remain  at  the  Mis- 
sioni  you  may  stay.  But  I  must  have  my  goods 
back,  of  course." 

He  could  reconcile  himself  much  easier  to  the 
loss  of  the  woman  if  he  could  get  back  some  of 
the  precious  stuff  he  had  paid  out  for  her.  He 
meant  to  make  a  strong  fight  for  that,  as  therein 
largely  lay  his  hopes  of  gaining  a  substitute  for 
Lelo. 

"What  money  are  you  talking  about?"  she  de- 
manded quickly,  "Is  it  that  you  ever  gave  me  any 
simbongof" 


140  A  Congo  Chattel 

"Didn't  I  pay  good  cloth  for  you,  after  you  ran 
away  from  your  other  master?" 

Answering  Lelo's  question  with  another,  he  took 
care  to  emphasize  "other  master"  in  such  a  way  as 
to  show  plainly  how  he  regarded  the  detestable 
habit  she  had  acquired  of  running  away. 

"To  whom  did  you  pay  the  goods  you  mention  ?" 
inquired  she,  craftily  devising  a  verbal  trap  for 
him  to  fall  into. 

He  blundered  into  it  without  hesitation  by  say- 
ing, 

"To  Kungu's  heir  of  course,  as  you  know  very 
well." 

"Oh,  in  that  case  then  why  not  apply  to  Kungu's 
heir  for  your  zimhongof  You  may  search  my 
basket  and  see  whether  there  is  in  it  a  fathom  of 
cloth,  or  any  other  article  that  belongs  to  you.  I 
have  stolen  none  of  your  property,  and  you  have 
given  me  nothing.  To  clothe  my  nakedness  you 
gave  me  not  a  cloth;  to  cover  my  children,  not  a 
rag  of  a  blanket.  Nothing,  absolutely  nothing  have 
I  received  from  you." 

Mavambu  stood  listening  to  her  long  tirade 
abashed  and  at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  adequately 
refute  her  charges,  his  usual  weapons  being  denied 
him  and  his  stock  of  gracious  words  almost  ex- 
hausted. It  was  quite  true  as  she  had  stated  that 
he  had  given  her  nothing  but  had  shamefully  wasted 
his  goods  in  making  presents  to  other  women.  The 
Vula  people  and  Mrs.  Missionary  who  had  been 


A  Generous  Husband  141 

attracted  to  the  spot  all  knew  that  Lelo  was  right. 
She  had  their  sympathy ;  she  had  been  badly  treated, 
and  they  knew  Mavambu  was  greatly  in  the  wrong. 

Lelo  felt  that  it  was  then  a  good  opportunity 
to  say  a  few  things  she  had  on  her  mind,  so  she 
continued : 

"You  come  to  me  for  pay,  when  you  should 
have  brought  me  an  offering  in  your  hands !  What 
reward  have  I  had  for  all  my  labor?  You  have 
kept  me  a  slave,  and  I  myself  earned  every  bit 
of  cloth  we  have  worn  and  every  bite  that  my  chil- 
dren and  myself  have  eaten  in  your  village.  You 
have  deceived,  insulted,  and  cursed  me,  and  now 
you  want  me  to  go  back,  or  you  want  your  cloth! 
You  are  right  in  coming  to  me,  but  it  ought  to  be 
on  a  different  errand ;  you  should  be  here  to  recom- 
pense me  for  my  work,  and  to  show  sorrow  for 
your  brutal  treatment.  As  it  is  now,  you  will  do 
well  if  you  go  and  seek  your  money  where  you 
paid  it." 

That  was  the  longest  speech  Lelo  had  ever 
made,  and  she  didn't  stop  then  because  she  had 
nothing  further  to  say.  Mavambu  trembled  with 
a  rage  hard  to  restrain,  and  which  threatened  sev- 
eral times  during  the  course  of  her  lengthy  ora- 
tion to  overleap  its  bounds.  Her  words  acted  as 
a  scourge.  How  gladly  then  would  he  have  re- 
nounced all  he  had  paid  for  the  woman  if  he  could 
have  gotten  her  once  more  in  his  power.  If  they 
were  only  away  from  those  prying,  interfering  mis- 


142  A  Congo  Chattel 

sionaries  for  a  time  he  would  make  her  sing  a 
different  tune,  or  kill  her  in  the  attempt.  He  had 
a  premonition  she  was  gone  from  him  for  good; 
that  she  had  effectually  slipped  through  his  clutches, 
and  so  his  wishes  appeared  useless. 

He  did  not  intend  to  give  up  the  pursuit  as  long 
as  there  was  any  hope  of  gaining  his  point;  so  he 
insisted,  as  one  who  had  an  unassailable  right  but 
was  willing  to  grant  concessions  for  the  sake  of 
peace : 

"You  may  stay  here,  but  only  on  the  condition 
that  you  pay  me  in  full  for  all  you  have  cost  me." 
Then  he  added  as  if  the  alternative  was  painful 
for  him  to  contemplate,  "Otherwise  I  will  have  to 
take  my  palaver  to  the  Judge  at  Boma." 

That  was  no  mean  threat  for  any  native  to  hear. 
Their  fear  of  the  "law,"  whether  they  were  inno- 
cent or  guilty,  was  excessive,  and  their  dread  of 
being  brought  before  the  White  Man  altogether  un- 
reasonable. Lelo  trembled  to  think  of  being  charged 
with  a  crime  and  of  the  probable  consequences  that 
might  follow. 

Mavambu  was  in  high  favor  with  the  ruling 
powers,  and  she  was  only  a  woman.  He  was  the 
Medal  Chief  of  the  place,  but  she  was  nothing,  or 
next  to  it,  being  "only  a  woman."  She  well  knew 
that  the  medal  chiefs  in  those  parts  were  well 
looked  after,  therefore  what  chance  would  she  have 
before  a  prejudiced  Judge,  one  whose  mind  might 


A  t^enerous  Husband  I43 

possibly  be  filled  with  Mavambu's  side  of  the  case 
as  presented  through  a  bribed  interpreter? 

Along  with  these  thoughts,  however,  came  the 
assurance  at  last  that  she  too  had  a  powerful 
Helper,  One  Who  cared  for  her,  and  Who  could 
deliver  her  from  Mavambu's  wiles  and  Mavambu's 
friends  in  authority.  She  had  almost  regained  her 
ease  when  she  finally  said, 

"You  may  go  with  your  case  where  you  like  as 
long  as  you  go  from  me.  I  will  not  go  back  to  you ; 
I  have  my  hoe  and  my  strength  to  use  it ;  I  can  sup- 
port myself  and  the  children.  We  will  not  enter 
your  hut  again." 

Mavambu  turned  away,  defeated  for  the  moment 
and  cursing  both  her  and  the  Vula  in  his  heart. 
Aloud  he  simply  repeated  his  threat  to  take  the 
palaver  to  his  Mundele,  and  strode  away  from  the 
station. 


CHAPTER    X. 
Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl. 

nELO  was  not  so  much  at  ease  as  she  looked 
and  it  was  with  a  rapidly  growing  fear 
that  she  walked  away  to  her  hut.  She 
nervously  thrust  open  the  little  door,  stepped  over 
the  high  sill,  and  dropped  down  in  a  heap  by  the 
fire.  The.  parting  word  of  her  former  liege  lord 
was  a  threat  well  calculated  to  inspire  dread,  espe- 
cially in  one  who  lived  in  such  absolute  ignorance 
of  the  "Law"  and  the  "Judge." 

Just  what  the  particular  business  of  these  strange 
white  Judges  was,  and  what  they  were  there  to  ac- 
complish, was  altogether  beyond  Lelo's  compre- 
hension. The  stories  she  had  heard  of  what  had 
happened  to  various  culprits  who  had  been  seized 
and  dragged  before  the  foreign  Ziizi  did  not  tend 
to  reassure  her,  nor  to  restore  cheerfulness.  To 
be  summoned  before  them  was  to  her  mind  almost 
equal  to  a  verdict  of  guilty  and  the  imposition  of  a 
heavy  sentence. 

Vangu  was  present  with  the  babies  and  they  were 
all  cuddled  on  a  floor  mat  together.  Lelo  had  left 
the  children  in  her  care  when  she  went  out  to  meet 
Mavambu,  and  Vangu  had  been  only  too  glad  to 
keep  out  of  his  way.     She  was  rather  inclined  to 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Grirl  t4S 

be  upset  whenever  she  met  him  by  chance  although 
she  had  not  much  to  fear  while  living  under  the 
protection  of  the  haNganga  Nzamhi. 

The  reason  that  Vangu  kept  well  out  of  the 
Medal  Chief's  way  was  because  he  was  courting 
her  and  she  resented  his  attentions.  In  fact  it 
was  his  assiduous  wooing  in  the  first  place  that 
induced  her  to  leave  her  own  village  and  flee  for 
refuge  to  the  Station.  When  Lelo  first  came  to 
the  Mission  Vangu  was  there  to  receive  her  and 
they  shared  a  house  together. 

Vangu  was  nearly  sixteen,  a  healthy  active  girl 
just  entering  womanhood.  She  was  well  formed 
and  developed  physically,  having  small  shapely 
hands  and  feet.  Her  smiling  and  regular  features, 
pleasant  voice  and  gentle  prepossessing  manners, 
qualities  so  many  young  Congo  girls  are  blessed 
with,  won  her  a  host  of  friends.  A  number  of 
ardent  admirers  was  naturally  attracted  to  her,  and 
among  them  came  Mavambu  to  insistently  offer 
what  was  left  of  his  heart  together  with  a  good- 
sized  pile  of  variously  assorted  trade  goods. 

As  soon  as  Mavambu  made  his  appearance  at  the 
Mission  House  Vangu  had  gone  swiftly  into  the 
hut  which  she  shared  with  Lelo,  and  closed  the  door. 
She  had  not  been  able  to  overhear  any  of  the  pa- 
laver, but  as  the  company  stood  in  full  view  on  the 
plaza  she  had  interpreted  much  of  what  they  were 
saying  from  their  gestures  and  occasional  loud 
exclamations.     She  had  kept  her  eye  glued  to  a 


146  A  Congo  Chattel 

crevice  between  two  palm  fronds  that  afforded  her, 
through  the  wall,  a  commanding  view  of  the  situa- 
tion. As  soon  as  Lelo  got  inside,  Vangu  asked 
quickly, 

"Are  you  going  back?" 

The  question  was  uttered  at  first  in  a  faint  and 
perfunctory  manner,  and  the  final  syllables  died 
away  in  her  throat  when  she  read  the  answer  in 
the  expression  on  Lelo's  face. 

"He  intends  to  take  his  palaver  to  the  White 
Man,"  said  Lelo,  trying  vainly  to  appear  indif- 
ferent. 

Vangu  was  upset  and  frankly  showed  it.  She 
remembered  that  she  was  mixed  up  in  a  palaver 
with  Mavambu,  and  now  that  he  had  begun  to  run 
to  his  White  Man  with  his  mamhus,  maybe  he  would 
take  her  case  to  him  also.  Alas,  had  not  her  uncle 
foolishly  accepted  some  of  the  fine  ginghams,  and 
had  he  not  greedily  swilled  some  of  the  palm  wine 
with  which  Mavambu  had  come  a- wooing;  and 
had  not  the  taking  of  those  valuables  forged  the 
first  tiny  link  in  the  chain  of  bondage  that  was 
intended  to  bind  her  for  life  to  her  importunate 
suitor?  She  hated  the  chain,  and  detested  the 
smirking,  ogling  Mavambu,  but  she  feared  him  still 
more. 

She  trembled  now  for  Lelo  as  well  as  for  herself. 
She  felt  that  Lelo  would  be  defeated  and  that  her 
own  downfall  would  naturally  follow. 

"What   shall   we  do?"   she  asked   tremulously. 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl  147 

identifying  herself  with  the  plan  in  order  to  avert, 
if  possible,  the  threatened  disaster. 

"I  don't  know  what  we  shall  do  then,  but  now 
we  can  again  ask  God  to  help  us,"  replied  Lelo 
earnestly. 

So  they  bowed  their  heads  and  prayed.  Aloud, 
and  in  simple  language,  Lelo  laid  their  sad  case 
before  Him^  Who  has  at  heart  even  the  interests  of 
the  Congo  women  and  is  ever  seeking  means  to 
help  them  in  their  troubles. 

After  Lelo  and  the  children  came  to  Yenge  to 
live,  Vangu  soon  learned  to  love  her,  and  grew  to 
lean  upon  her  for  help  and  advice  in  her  own  af- 
fairs. She  was  comforted  now  to  think  that  Lelo 
would  somehow  find  means  of  getting  out  of  the 
maze  of  difficulties  ahead,  although  she  could  not 
then  see  in  what  way. 

Mavambu  had  an  excellent  eye  for  beauty.  He 
was  a  connoisseur  of  female  charms,  and  always  on 
the  lookout  for  new  and  attractive  specimens  to 
add  to  his  collection  of  women.  He  fell  in  love 
with  Vangu  at  sight,  or  at  least  that  was  the  way  in 
which  he  somewhat  vaguely  phrased  his  experience. 
As  a  plain  matter  of  fact^any  love  that  Mavambu 
owned  never  got  beyond  his  own  being ;  he  had  none 
to  spare  for  any  other  person.  He  sought  only  to 
gratify  his  personal  ambition  and  to  make  himself 
more  powerful  by  the  addition  of  Vangu  to  the 
family  corral.  Since  she  was  beautiful  so  much 
the  better;  that  was  an  additional  advantage. 


148  A  Congo  Chattel 

Mavambu  had  opened  negotiations  with  the  ma- 
ternal relatives  of  the  girl,  represented  by  the  head 
of  the  house,  or  ngwa  nkazi — her  mother's  eldest 
brother.  He  went  wisely  to  the  one  who  could 
dispose  of  Vangu  and  whose  decision  would  be 
irrevocable. 

He  had  wasted  no  time  trying  to  ascertain  the 
feelings  of  Vangu  herself  but  had  gone  at  once  to 
headquarters  with  his  courtship.  He  knew  very 
well  how  to  court,  but  the  girl,  lacking  his  wisdom 
and  experience,  could  not  be  expected  to  know 
what  to  do,  or  what  was  best  for  herself  in  the  case. 

The  preliminaries  were  encouraging;  the  family 
was  not  averse  to  the  alliance  with  a  medal  chief, 
and  Mavambu  began  his  suit.  His  attentions  to 
Vangu  were  a  negligible  quantity,  but  he  paid  valu- 
able cloth  and  other  treasures  in  the  dowry  reckon- 
ing with  her  uncle. 

After  the  first  friendly  drink  of  palm  wine  to- 
gether, a  day  was  settled  upon  for  Mavambu  to  lay 
down  an  instalment  of  the  amount  demanded  for 
his  new  wife.  There  was  no  delay  and  at  the  ap- 
pointed time  Mavambu  and  his  friends  were  ready 
to  fulfil  their  share  in  the  contract.  He,  like  all 
other  intending  purchasers,  had  been  obliged  to 
borrow  a  large  portion  of  the  first  payment.  The 
people  who  made  the  loans  considered  their  zim- 
hongo  well  invested  against  the  day  when  they 
themselves  would  be  making  similar  ventures,  and 
would  have  their  deposits  of  cloth  with  Mavambu 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl  149 

to  draw  upon.  Unless  a  Mayombe  man  is  a  Chris- 
tian, and  a  first-class  specimen  at  that,  he  cannot 
possibly  be  happy  if  he  is  not  in  debt.  It  is  in  the 
blood  to  owe  somebody  something,  and  the  more 
the  better.  It  requires  the  blood  of  Christ  to  take 
the  habit  away. 

Not  much  had  been  said  to  Vangu  about  the 
matter  because  the  first  intimation  of  Mavambu's 
attentions  had  not  been  very  favorably  received  by 
her.  She  had  protested  with  all  her  heart  at  the 
bare  suggestion  of  such  a  union. 

When  Mavambu  arrived  on  his  errand  of  love 
she  was  sitting  in  front  of  her  hut  grinding  corn. 
She  had  a  flat,  slightly  hollowed  lower  stone  on 
the  ground  before  her,  and  with  both  hands  she 
firmly  held  a  round  stone,  as  big  as  her  two  fists, 
which  she  was  using  to  crush  the  grain.  She  was 
so  intent  upon  her  work  that  Mavambu  and  his 
friends  were  passing  her  door  before  she  saw  them. 

One  man  in  the  party  bore  a  bundle  of  what 
appeared  to  be  cloth,  and  another  carried  upon  his 
head  a  jug  which  seemed  to  hold  the  White  Man's 
malavu,  as  the  heavy  red  wicker  cap  was  still 
bound  with  the  original  cord.  The  distinguished 
visitors  passed  along  without  halting,  but  Mavambu, 
smiling  broadly,  slackened  his  pace  enough  to  per- 
mit of  a  very  cordial  greeting  to  Vangu.  The  joy- 
ous salutation  was  plainly  meant  to  show  his  great 
esteem,  but  she,  being  unaccustomed  to  marks  of 
royal  favor,  was  rather  disturbed  by  his  overtures. 


150  A  Congo  Chattel 

With  a  perplexed  frown  she  watched  the  com- 
pany make  their  way  up  the  street.  Sundry  gos- 
siping speeches  she  had  before  heard  and  forgotten 
began  to  run  through  her  mind.  The  crowd,  headed 
by  Mavambu,  walked  with  such  an  air  of  jollity 
and  exuded  such  rare  good  feeling  toward  the  vil- 
lagers, as  could  only  be  induced  by  the  inner  ap- 
plication of  the  contents,  freely  applied,  of  such  a 
demijohn  as  was  borne  aloft  in  the  procession. 
When  they  reached  the  Chief's  house,  they  all  sat 
down  under  the  low,  projecting  roof  in  the  shade 
by  the  door. 

With  an  air  of  idle  curiosity  Vangu  turned  her 
head,  and  indifferently  inquired  of  a  woman  who 
had  just  stopped  at  the  smouldering  fire  by  her  side, 

"What  are  they  going  to  do  with  all  that  cloth  ?" 

The  visitor  grinned  knowingly  as  she  twisted 
about  and  lowered  her  basket  to  the  ground.  Stoop- 
ing to  pick  up  a  live  coal  from  the  fire,  she  jammed 
it  into  the  bowl  of  her  pipe  with  the  tip  of  a  cal- 
loused thumb.  She  puffed  vigorously  for  a  mo- 
ment and  slowly  emitted  a  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke 
before  replying;  and  then  said, 

"Indeed  it  is  you  who  ought  to  know  best.'* 

Vangu,  failing  to  see  the  significance  of  the 
answer,  asked  in  troubled  accents, 

"Me,  how  should  I  know?" 

"What  girl  does  not  know  when  a  nice  young 
man   comes  along  after  her,  especially  when  he 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl  151 

brings  the  goods  in  his  hands  ?  How  is  it  that  you 
are  so  ignorant?" 

She  then  slung  her  big  firewood  basket  into  place 
on  her  back,  straightened  up,  stepped  into  the 
beaten  path,  and  walked  off  toward  the  forest  with- 
out looking  around.  She  broke  off  thus  abruptly 
because  it  had  occurred  to  her  at  the  moment 
that  she  was  probably  saying  more  than  was  wise. 
So  much  trouble  comes  to  good  women  in  Mayombe, 
thought  she,  for  using  even  but  few  words  at  times. 

Vangu  stared  at  her  receding  figure  with  wide- 
open,  frightened  eyes,  and  then  looked  fearfully 
around  at  the  crowd  seated  before  the  hut  of  the 
Chief.  Nobody  in  that  crowd  could  have  been 
designated  as  a  "nice  young  man,"  except  in  speech 
subject  to  a  strictly  flattering  interpretation  and  not 
governed  by  the  simple  rules  of  truth.  Gazing  at 
blear-eyed  Mavambu,  she  involuntarily  shud- 
dered, wondering  whether  it  w^as  he  indeed  who  was 
the  "nice  young  man"  in  search  of  a  bride,  and  if 
she  could  possibly  be  the  object  of  his  quest. 

She  turned  her  head  dazedly  toward  the  woman, 
her  hands  gripping  the  millstone,  and  called  faintly, 

"Do  you  mean  that  somebody  wants  to  marry 
me?" 

The  woman  kept  on  her  way  without  turning, 
or  making  any  sign  to  show  she  had  heard.  Vangu 
arose  quickly  to  her  feet,  and  ran  after  her.  Lay- 
ing a  restraining  hand  upon  the  woman's  naked 
arm,  she  gasped  beseechingly, 


152  A  Congo  Chattel 

"Tell  me,  was  that  cloth  brought  here  on  my 
account  ?" 

"Certainly,  I  heard  that  Mavambu  intends  to 
pay  it  on  your  body  today." 

The  abrupt,  gruff,  but  kindly  meant  reply  of  the 
woman  left  Vangu  stark  still  in  her  tracks,  star- 
ing at  her  disappearing  form. 

Without  turning  to  note  the  effect  of  her  in- 
formation upon  the  girl,  the  woman  strode  along 
and  was  soon  hidden  from  sight  behind  the  sway- 
ing curtain  of  dense,  tangled  vegetation.  Push- 
ing up  from  the  ground  in  every  available  spot 
were  masses  of  ferns.  Swinging  from  the  huge 
vines  that  climbed  the  trunks,  and  crossed  from 
tree  to  tree,  binding  the  forest  together  with  pow- 
erful consuming  fetters,  were  other  parasitic 
plants.  Some  of  these  grew  beautiful  flowers  that 
filled  in  the  interstices  of  the  variegated  living 
screen.  A  few  rapid  paces,  and  the  sound  of  her 
footsteps  was  lost,  and  she  was  hid  as  effectually 
behind  the  barrier  as  though  an  hour's  march  lay 
between  them. 

Vangu's  heart  stood  still  with  shock,  but  her 
brain  began  working  feverishly  under  the  pressure 
of  the  woman's  warning.  She  glided  quickly  back 
to  her  work  and  bent  over  it,  to  gain  time.  Her 
hands  raced  nervously  to  and  fro  across  the  mill- 
stone as  she  tried  to  plan  some  way  to  avert  the 
threatened  disaster.  The  swiftly  flying  stone,  rhyth- 
mically rolling  and  keeping  time  with  her  swaying 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl  153 

body,  seemed  to  crunch  out  of  the  cracking  corn: 

"Mavambu!     Never,  never,  never!" 

She  could  not  help  contrasting  in  her  mind  for  an 
instant  the  besotted  Medal  Chief  with  a  nice  young 
man  with  whom  she  was  acquainted.  He  had 
gawky  limbs  but  he  always  wore  a  happy  youthful 
grin  when  she  was  near.  When  he  spoke  his 
voice  was  musical  to  her.  Her  heart  warmed 
toward  him,  and  she  could  have  cried  out  in  anger 
and  disgust  when  she  compared  him  in  her  mind 
with  Mavambu. 

She  soon  reached  a  conclusion;  her  determina- 
tion was  to  take  a  decided  and  bold  course.  She 
resolved  to  resist,  to  fight ;  she  would  not  be  led  like 
a  lamb  to  the  slaughter  but  would  scream  and 
scratch  as  she  went,  if  go  she  must.  If  she  was  to 
be  sacrificed  she  would  not  go  weak  and  unresist- 
ing to  Mavambu's  hut.  She  had  everything  to  gain 
by  fighting  and  fleeing,  and  all  to  lose  by  passively 
waiting.  Then  came  the  cheering  welcome  thought 
that  she  had  even  a  place  to  which  she  could  go. 
She  could  take  refuge  with  Masala. 

Masala,  the  wife  of  Matundu,  had  befriended 
her  before,  and  she  was  confident  she  would,  if 
possible,  protect  her  now.  Matundu  and  Masala 
were  Christians,  and  had  erected  their  little  hut 
just  outside  the  Vula  compound,  beyond  the 
Chapel. 

Masala  was  happily  married  and  she  would 
readily  understand  why  Mavambu  was  impossible 


154  A  Congo  Chattel 

as  a  husband,  and  why  almost  any  other  fate  would 
be  preferable  to  a  life  with  him.  She  would  try 
Masala,  and  if  she  failed,  then,  then — but  what 
was  the  use  of  thinking  of  any  alternative  until 
required  ? 

Without  a  word  to  anyone,  either  of  explanation 
or  of  farewell;  without  even  waiting  to  pick  up 
any  of  her  little  treasures;  impelled  by  an  over- 
mastering repugnance  and  fear,  as  soon  as  she 
made  up  her  mind,  she  ran  off  swiftly  like  a  timid 
antelope  into  the  forest.  She  lingered  neither  for 
a  breathing  spell  nor  to  bewail  her  lot  with  un- 
timely tears,  but  fled  for  her  life,  intent  only  upon 
reaching  Masala's  hut. 

In  a  spasm  of  fear  she  remembered  as  she  ran 
the  heart-touching,  unspeakably  horrible  experi- 
ence of  a  girl  she  knew.  She  also  had  been  re- 
fractory. They  had  suddenly  fallen  upon  her  and 
seized  her,  and  despite  her  indignant  protesta- 
tions, and  anguished  pleas  for  mercy,  forced  her 
into  a  hut  and  kept  her  secluded  for  days  a  prisoner. 
No  one  but  the  huge  brute  beast  in  human  form 
who  had  a  "claim"  upon  her  was  allowed  to  enter 
the  hut  during  the  time  of  her  imprisonment  there. 
The  vile  treatment  to  which  that  poor  girl  had  been 
subjected  was  sometimes  held  up  as  a  warning  to 
the  daring  and  rebellious  spirits  who  were  begin- 
ning to  imbibe  strange  views  concerning  the  duties 
of  women. 

The  memory  of  that  girl's  sad  fate  did  not  tend 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl  155 

to  slacken  Vangu's  pace.  Like  a  wild  creature 
she  ran  along  slimy,  green,  disused  by-ways, 
through  groves  of  bananas,  and  across  dense 
patches  of  jungle.  She  sprang  lightly  over  obstruc- 
tions, dived  under  thorny  vines,  and  fought  her 
way  through  impeding  and  tangled  ferns  and 
coarse,  rank  grasses,  making  unswervingly  straight 
to  cover.  With  scarcely  a  halt  she  reached  Ma- 
tundu's  hut,  passed  quickly  through  the  open  door- 
way where  Masala  was  sitting,  and  threw  herself 
panting  in  the  corner. 

It  was  a  bold  step  for  a  young  girl  to  take  in 
opposition  to  her  family  and  prospective  owner, 
but  she  was  desperate.  Very  timid  creatures  will 
often  fight  as  a  final  resort.  Even  so  the  patient, 
burden-bearing,  long-suffering  Mayombe  woman 
turns  as  a  last  expedient  on  her  brutal  male  op- 
pressor, and  fights  hard  for  the  privilege  of  living 
unshackled  and  loving  the  man  of  her  choice. 

By  that  move  Mavambu  lost  what  might  have 
been  a  valuable  addition  to  his  supply  of  women, 
but  Lelo  gained  a  faithful  friend.  When  some 
months  afterward  Lelo  reached  the  Vula,  she  found 
Vangu  ready  to  receive  her  with  open  arms.  They 
were  comrades  in  distress,  ostracized  by  their  kind 
in  the  villages  because  of  the  same  man,  and  so 
perhaps  better  able  to  comfort  each  other  in  their 
troubles  and  rejoice  together  that  they  were  tem- 
porarily free  from  his  persecutions. 

Mavambu's     "sheep's     eyes"     expression     was 


156  A  Congo  Chattel 

changed  to  a  wolfish  glare  whenever  he  looked  upon 
Vangu  after  her  bold  resistance  of  his  courting. 
So  that  was  why  Vangu  preferred  to  huddle  away 
in  the  hut  with  the  babies,  and  keep  out  of  the 
palaver,  while  Mavambu  was  talking  it  over  with 
Mrs.  Missionary  and  Lelo  out  on  the  plaza. 

Mavambu's  palaver  against  Lelo  had  by  that 
time  assumed  public  importance,  and  he  felt  justi- 
fied in  bringing  it  to  the  official  attention  of  the 
village  headmen,  Makwala  and  Paka.  They  talked 
it  over  from  every  point  of  view  and  then  returned 
again  to  its  consideration.  It  was  not  as  if  his  wife, 
and  a  girl  for  whom  he  paid  a  deposit  of  cloth  had 
taken  refuge  at  some  neighboring  village,  for  then 
the  problem  would  have  been  easily  answered  with 
a  whip  and  a  rope;  but  they  had  gone  to  the  Vula 
and  mixed  up  the  haNganga  Nzamhi  in  the  palaver, 
which  was  quite  another  and  more  serious  matter. 

Force,  under  the  circumstances,  said  the  Elders, 
was  a  factor  to  be  left  out  of  the  calculation. 
Lelo  with  her  children,  and  Vangu  could  all  take 
root  and  grow  at  the  Vula  and  never  be  removed 
if  force  had  to  be  employed.  Mavambu  and  his 
clan  had  numbers  and  brute  strength  enough  to  go 
over  to  the  Vula,  overpower  the  residents,  and 
carry  off  the  women  in  question,  and  whatever  else 
besides  that  took  their  fancy.  But  they  were  be- 
ginning to  realize  that  brute  strength  stood  no  show 
with  moral  force  and  the  power  of  the  civilized 
and  spiritual  world  as  represented  by  the  Govern- 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl  157 

ment  and  the  missionaries.  After  all,  it  would  be 
safer  to  take  the  palaver  to  Boma.  True,  it  was 
far  away,  and  there  was  a  hard  road  journey  and 
the  discomforts  of  a  stay  at  Boma,  but  that  was 
no  doubt  the  only  way  to  get  justice.  So  Mavambu 
decided  to  go  again  to  the  Vula  and  announce  his 
decision. 

He  met  Lelo  face  to  face  coming  from  morning 
prayers  at  the  grass-roofed  chapel.  He  tried  to 
give  his  greeting  ingratiatingly, 

"Mavimpi/* 

"Eh!  Mbote  kwandi"  she  shrugged  out  in  the 
usual  way  of  returning  such  a  salutation,  and  en- 
deavored to  pass  on. 

"I  came  over  to  see  the  Mundele"  Mavambu 
added. 

"Mr.  Missionary  has  gone  on  a  preaching  tour, 
and  will  be  away  for  days." 

"Well,  since  I  cannot  see  him,  I  may  tell  you 
what  I  have  decided  to  do  about  your  case." 

Lelo  bruskly  informed  him,  "I  am  not  interested, 
that  is  diambu  diaku"  (literally  meaning  business 
thine). 

"We  are  going  to  lay  the  case  before  my  White 
Man,  the  Zuzi,"  said  Mavambu,  regardless  of  her 
interruption.  "My"  was  emphasized  to  increase 
her  awe  of  a  man  of  prestige  who  owned  a  Mundele 
more  powerful  than  a  missionary. 

No  comment  being  forthcoming,  he  went  on  to 
say: 


158  A  Congo  Chattel 

"My  White  Man  is  a  man  of  sense  to  decide, 
as  well  as  power  to  carry  out  his  orders.  What  he 
tells  us  to  do,  that  I  will  abide  by." 

A  dogged  silence  ensued.  Again  Mavambu 
broke  it  with : 

"If  my  Mundele  says  you  can  stay  here,  I  will 
drop  the  matter,  but  until  the  case  has  been  legally 
settled  by  him  I  will  contend  for  my  rights  and  my 
claims  on  you  and  my  children." 

The  conversation  had  then  dropped  into  a  mono- 
logue, but  Mavambu  was  unabashed  by  her  taci- 
turnity.    So  he  went  on  to  explain  to  her, 

"It  will  be  necessary  for  us  to  go  to  Boma  and 
appear  before  the  Zuzi  together  with  our  witnesses 
at  the  same  time.     What  do  you  say?" 

"All  right,  I  am  willing  to  have  the  Judge  finish 
the  palaver." 

"Well,  we  will  start  from  my  village  on  the  first 
day  of  next  week,  I  will  inform  my  friends  and 
prepare  food  for  the  journey.  You  can  travel  in 
my  caravan,"  Mavambu  thoughtfully  offered. 

Lelo  made  no  answer^  and  maintained  a  dis- 
creet silence  as  to  what  company  she  would  travel 
with  to  Boma.  Mavambu  walked  away  congratu- 
lating himself  upon  a  happy  outcome  of  what  might 
have  been  another  quarrel. 

Over  a  cheery,  tiny  blaze  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor  of  their  little  hut  that  same  night  Lelo  and 
Vangu  again  took  up  the  subject.  They  shrank 
from  the  thought  of  Lelo  putting  herself  in  Ma- 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl  159 

vambu's  power  by  journeying  with  his  caravan, 
but  they  could  think  of  no  plan  by  which  the  diffi- 
culty might  be  obviated  if  she  was  to  go  to  Boma 
at  all. 

The  children  were  asleep  on  the  short,  narrow, 
mat-covered  frame  bed  which  was  raised  about  six 
inches  from  the  floor  on  two  billets  of  firewood, 
while  Lelo  was  seated  on  the  edge.  Vangu 
sprawled  upon  a  coarse  papyrus  mat  drawn  close 
up  to  the  fire.  She  poked  the  burning  ends  of  the 
sticks  together,  and  after  the  first  heavy  smoke  had 
rolled  up  into  the  roof,  seeking  crevices  through 
which  it  might  escape  into  the  open,  she  stared 
gloomily  at  the  upspringing  tongues  of  light  that 
furnished  the  only  grateful  luxury  to  be  found  in 
the  mean  interior  of  their  humble  quarters. 

"Yes,"  said  she,  in  answer  to  a  question  that 
had  arisen  in  her  own  mind,  "I  too  will  go  with 
you." 

Lelo,  knowing  the  girl's  horror  of  Mavambu, 
asked  in  amazement, 

"You!     Why?" 

"I  want  to  accompany  you,  and  when  your  pa- 
laver is  finished,  then  I  will  ask  Zuzi  to  free  me 
from  Mavambu's  claim." 

"Me,  I  don't  like  to  think  of  that  hard  journey 
to  such  a  place  as  Boma  myself,  but  for  you  how 
much  worse  it  would  be,"  observed  Lelo. 

"Maybe  we  would  never  be  permitted  to  reach 
Boma,  or  perhaps  he  would  ill-treat  us  when  he 


i6o  A  Congo  Chattel 

got  us  away  from  the  Vula/'  timidly  suggested 
Vangu. 

"I  don't  suppose  he  would  dare  injure  us  now, 
but  he  is  a  bad  man  and  I  fear  to  put  myself  in 
his  power.  However,  we  shall  talk  it  over  to- 
morrow with  Mrs.  Missionary,  and  see  what  she 
says." 

They  fastened  the  door  with  a  long  palm  cane 
by  thrusting  it  through  two  loops  made  of  thongs 
of  skin  which  served  as  a  bolt.  The  hide  was  fast- 
ened to  the  door  and  to  the  door  frame,  one  loop 
on  each  side.  Banking  the  fire  by,  drawing  up  the 
scattered  ashes  and  putting  in  the  ends  of  a  couple 
of  hardwood  sticks  they  retired  to  rest.  Rest  was 
welcome,  not  only  to  their  bodies,  but  to  their  minds. 
They  forgot  in  sleep  the  man  who  filled  so  un- 
pleasantly much  of  their  waking  thoughts. 

Lelo  and  Vangu  were  called  up  to  the  Banga 
(mansion)  next  day  before  Mr.  Missionary  had 
time  to  rid  himself  of  the  marks  of  travel.  Ma- 
vambu's  plan,  of  which  they  had  heard,  did  not 
appeal  to  Lelo's  friends.  They  hastened  to  inform 
Mr.  Missionary  of  Mavambu's  new  move  as  soon 
as  he  arrived  from  his  journey.  Mr.  Missionary 
planned  to  have  the  girls  see  the  Zusi  first  and 
to  present  their  side  of  the  case  before  his  eyes 
were  blinded  by  the  glare  of  Mavambu's  medal 
or  his  mind  filled  with  irrelevant  matters  by  the 
enemy. 

"You  need  not  go  with  Mavambu's  crowd  at  2^11 ; 


RAILWAY  STATION  AND  RESIDENCES  OF  STATE  OF- 
FICIALS, FROM  C.  AND  M.  A.   MISSION  HILL 


b '  -4im 

f^^ 

'r         m 

*'■  ^s^^,,|g^^|^^^Mi  ^' 

ON    ITINERATING   TOUR 


Courting  a  Mayombe  Girl  i6i 

you  can  run  away  now  ahead  of  their  caravan,  and 
get  to  Boma  before  them,"  proposed  Mr.  Mis- 
sionary. 

"But,  Mfumu,  how  can  we,  since  we  know  not 
the  road  there,  nor  the  way  to  the  Zuzi's  palace  at 
Boma." 

"I  will  attend  to  that.  I  will  arrange  with  Tubi 
and  another  man  to  show  you  the  way,  and  pro- 
tect you  on  the  road." 

Their  arrangements  were  made  so  quietly  that 
no  word  of  the  proposed  flight  got  beyond  the 
station.  A  great  burden  was  lifted  from  Lelo's 
heart,  and  Vangu  rejoiced  in  the  solution  to  their 
perplexity  mostly  because  she  need  not  be  near 
Mavambu  until  she  got  to  Boma. 

Mavambu  did  not  propose  to  leave  anything  to 
evil  chance,  or  the  doubtful  temper  of  Zuzi,  but 
set  about  his  propitiation  at  once.  He  knew  by  sad 
experience  how  unreliable  white  men  were  in  that 
bilious,  fever-stricken  place,  and  how  the  mindele 
often  did  the  most  unexpected  things  in  the  cranki- 
est kind  of  way.  He  planned  to  make  such  a  good 
impression  that  the  verdict  would  fall  his  way  as 
a  matter  of  course.  He  had  not  been  an  official 
for  so  long  a  time  without  discovering  the  im- 
mense value  and  assistance  that  were  to  be  de- 
rived for  any  cause  by  seeing  the  interpreter  first 
and  giving  a  timely  word  of  explanation. 

The  night  before  they  were  to  leave  his  village 
on  the  eventful  journey,  Mavambu  ordered  a  boy 


1 62  A  Congo  Chattel 

to  make  a  palm-branch  crate  in  which  to  carry 
several  scrawny,  underfed  fowls,  as  a  present  for 
the  Congo  man  who  would  put  their  evidence  into 
pidgin-French.  He  had  a  sudden  and  lively  recol- 
lection of  past  favors  from  the  same  quarter  and 
intended  to  take  the  Dingizi  something  to  put  into 
the  family  pot. 

Mavambu  at  the  head  of  his  caravan  of  friends 
and  male  servants  bearing  bundles  of  food  on  their 
heads  came  to  the  Vula  in  good  season  to  pick  up 
the  rest  of  the  party. 

They  had  lingered  in  their  village  for  some  final 
preparations  for  the  trip,  but  it  was  not  late  in 
the  morning  when  they  reached  the  front  door  of 
the  Banga.  Astonished  and  indignant  at  such 
"treachery,"  Mavambu  received  the  startling  news 
that  Lelo  and  Vangu  had  concluded  to  go  ahead 
and  would  meet  him  upon  his  arrival  at  Boma. 

Injured  Mavambu  wasted  neither  words  nor  fur- 
ther time.  As  soon  as  the  story  had  been  veri- 
fied by  several  witnesses  who  declared  that  the 
women  had  started  off  on  the  preceding  day  he 
marched  away  at  once,  followed  by  his  disgusted 
caravan. 

By  that  time  the  fleeing  flock,  headed  by  Tubi, 
all  traveling  light,  were  fully  forty  miles  away  on 
the  road  to  the  famous  town  of  Boma,  and  still 
moving  fast  toward  their  desired  haven — the  Boma 
Mission  Station. 


CHAPTER    XI. 
Judgment  and  Justice. 

CHE  sun  was  blazing  high  in  the  equatorial 
heavens,  having  burned  away  all  early 
morning  mists  and  cloud  barriers  that  ob- 
structed its  rays.  Its  intense  heat  was  baking  the 
stony  path  under  the  blistered  feet  of  the  com- 
rades in  affliction  when  they  halted  with  their 
faithful  escort  Tubi  upon  a  high  ridge  of  the  hills 
overlooking  Boma.  They  had  slept  but  one  night 
on  the  road,  and  behind  them  was  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  distance  of  fifty  miles  which  lay  between  the 
city  of  their  dreams  in  the  valley  below  them  and 
their  Yenge  home. 

In  all  their  days  they  had  never  beheld  such  a 
wonderful  scene.  It  was  reviving  to  their  fagged 
bodies  and  tired  spirits.  In  the  inspiring  features 
of  the  view  before  them  they  lost  sight  of  the 
hardships  of  the  jungle  path  over  which  they  had 
trudged.  It  was  not  that  they  were  so  much 
amazed  at  the  sight  of  the  wide  reach  of  swift- 
flowing  river,  dammed  in  by  the  long,  low,  rocky 
barriers  far  across  on  the  other  shore.  It  was  of 
course  hard  for  them  to  comprehend  such  an  im- 
mensity of  water  gathered  in  any  one  place  on 


164  A  Congo  Chattel 

earth,  for  they  were  more  moved  when  contem- 
plating the  works  of  man. 

What  relieved  them  of  their  weariness,  as 
if  a  heavy  garment  had  been  cast  aside,  and 
straightened  their  drooping  backs,  and  kindled 
their  dull  eyes,  and  brought  forth  wondering  ex- 
clamations of  delight,  was  the  sight  of  so  many 
great  hangas  all  built  in  one  place.  Such  high 
houses  they  were  too,  higher  even  than  a  tall  palm 
tree.  With  their  dazzling,  lime-washed  felt  roofs,  or 
glaring  coverings  of  corrugated  iron  sheets  throw- 
ing off  the  hot  rays  of  the  sun,  they  made  a  shin- 
ing and  attractive  picture. 

The  tales  the  boasting  caravans  of  blase  traders, 
surfeited  with  metropolitan  sights  and  sounds,  had 
carried  back  to  the  women  in  the  bush,  of  things 
hitherto  deemed  incredible,  were  now  proved  to 
be  true.  Anything  could  easily  be  true  of  such 
a  city  as  the  one  that  now  filled  their  admiring 
vision.  There  must  have  been  at  least  a  hundred 
hangas  of  the  mindele,  and  twice  that  number  of 
native  huts !  Indeed  with  hardly  an  effort  they 
could  now  believe  all  they  had  ever  heard  con- 
cerning the  strange  interiors  of  those  great  houses, 
and  of  the  customs  of  those  who  inhabited  them, 
satiated  as  they  were  with  luxurious  living. 

The  two  women  could  offer  no  gesture  of  doubt, 
nor  venture  any  expression  of  contradiction  to  all 
the  marvelous  statements  that  their  willing  guide 
poured  into  their  bewildered  ears.     Tubi  pointed 


Judgment  and  Justice  165 

out  from  the  wealth  of  his  traveled  culture  a 
very  curious  and  huge  affair  out  in  the  water  that 
was  neither  a  fabulous  animal,  nor  any  growth  of 
nature.  He  informed  them  that  it  was  one  of  the 
floating  houses  that  brought  within  their  capacious 
depths  bales  of  cloth,  demijohns  of  rum,  barrels  of 
powder,  innumerable  guns;  and  upon  its  broad 
decks,  the  White  Men  from  the  foreign  land. 

They  stared  at  the  tall  posts — masts — which 
were  like  trees  for  height,  and  at  the  black  smoke 
arising  from  a  tall  chimney,  which  testified  to  in- 
ternal fires.  Pressed  to  be  exact  Tubi  could  not 
say  how  deep  the  thing  was,  as  he  confessed  that 
he  had  never  set  foot  upon  one,  but  he  had  heard 
from  more  fortunate  mortals  that  they  were  very 
deep  indeed;  and  were  filled  with  chambers  of 
various  sizes,  and  compartments  for  merchandise, 
and  bulky  machinery. 

At  first  they  could  find  no  words  to  give  vent 
to  what  they  felt,  and  could  only  murmur  in  ex- 
pressing their  emotions, 

"Truly,  truly,  truly!" 

They  were  too  confused  to  grasp  the  magnitude 
of  what  they  beheld,  but  they  feasted  their  eyes 
upon  it  all. 

"You  cannot  see  from  here,"  informed  Tubi, 
"but  just  over  beyond  that  hillock  is  a  great  ship 
sunk  in  the  river." 

"A  'dead'  ship;  what  'killed'  it?"  inquired  Lelo. 

"Eh,  who  knows  more  than  it  was  blown  up 


i66  A  Congo  Chattel 

by  the  explosion  of  a  cargo  of  gunpowder  inside." 

"Were  all  the  people  killed?" 

"No,  not  all  of  them.  There  were  two  mis- 
sionaries killed,  and  their  bodies  are  still  inside 
their  'little  house*  under  the  water."  The  women 
thought  of  the  strange  crocodiles  of  which  they 
had  heard  such  evil  reports,  and  shuddered. 

Tubi,  the  traveled  one,  liked  his  new  role  of 
instructor,  and  went  on  to  give  more  gruesome 
history. 

"There  are  some  rotting  posts  on  the  river  bank, 
just  this  side  of  where  the  ship  is  half  buried,  where 
a  trader  killed  a  number  of  his  slaves  by  throwing 
them  bound  into  the  river.  The  workmen  at  the 
'factories'  (trading  houses)  tell  about  it  to  this 
day." 

"Oh!  but  what  did  Bula  Matadi  (meaning  lit- 
erally Bula,  to  break;  Matadi,  rocks — name  given 
H.  M.  Stanley  and  succeeding  government)  do 
about  it?" 

"That  was  before  they  came,  when  the  slave 
traders  held  Boma.  You  know  Boma  means  slave- 
pen  down  here." 

Tubi  told  them  of  the  tales  handed  down  by 
the  Fathers.  The  women  looked  out  over  the  river 
and  thought  of  the  time  when  its  banks  were 
covered  with  grass  huts  and  the  slave-pens  of  the 
bold  foreign  adventurers. 

They  thought  of  the  many  woman  with  blistered, 
calloused  feet  that  had  with  aching  hearts  paused 


Judgment  and  Justice  167 

for  an  instant  upon  that  spot  to  take  their  first 
look  at  that  fearful,  mighty  flood  that  was  to  bear 
them  away  into  unending,  bitter  bondage.  As  they 
made  the  contrast  they  felt  their  own  lot  in  life 
to  be  better  and  the  coming  of  the  overruling 
white  invader  not  an  unmixed  evil. 

"In  those  days,"  said  Tubi,  "we  could  not  have 
come  alone  so  far.  We  ourselves  would  have 
been  seized  and  sold  off  into  bondage  ku  ntputu. 
Bula  Matadi  has  stopped  slavery  along  this  road." 

Lelo  thought  of  the  little  ones  at  Yenge  Station 
that  she  hoped  soon  to  see  again  and  silently  agreed 
to  the  statement. 

They  listened  for  a  while  longer  with  great  in- 
terest to  the  erudite  answers  of  their  guide  to  the 
simple  and  wondering  questions  which  they  pro- 
pounded, and  then  resumed  their  march  down  to 
the  Vula. 

They  were  warmly  welcomed  at  the  Mission, 
and  Mr.  Missionary  asked  why  they  had  come. 
Tubi,  the  spokesman,  answered, 

"It  is  a  palaver  these  women  have  with  Ma- 
vambu,  the  Medal  Chief,  at  Yenge.  They  are  go- 
ing to  the  Judge  tomorrow  before  Mavambu  can 
tell  his  'story  of  lies.'  " 

"Where  is  Mavambu?" 

"We  don't  know.     We  ran  off  before  him." 

"Well,  eat  and  take  your  rest.  In  the  morning 
I  will  send  a  boy  to  guide  you  to  the  mansion  of 
Zuzi  Palaver." 


i68  A  Congo  Chattel 

That  night  they  rested  their  weary  bones,  and 
safe  among  friends  slept  the  deep  sleep  that  comes 
of  physical  exhaustion.  Tubi  had  been  almost  for- 
gotten amid  the  strange  sights  of  the  preceding 
day,  but  the  women  remembered  him  very  well 
again  in  the  chill,  waking  stiffness  of  the  gray 
morning  on  which  they  were  to  visit  the  hanga 
of  the  great  white  lord. 

They  were  still  footsore  from  their  forced 
march  when  they  presented  themselves  before  the 
house  of  the  Judge,  but  the  marks  of  travel  had 
been  removed,  and  the  women  were  both  draped 
in  clean  calico  cloths  fastened  under  their  arm- 
pits above  their  breasts  and  falling  in  folds  to  their 
ankles. 

Before  they  could  reach  the  ear  of  the  Zuzi, 
they  were  obliged  to  outline  their  troubles  to  the 
policeman  who  guarded  the  outer  entrance.  That 
haughty  functionary  was  the  picture  of  ebony  ar- 
rogance and  stood  there  in  all  the  dignity  of  braided 
blue  blouse,  red  fez  cap,  and  the  pride  that  goes 
with  a  fine  uniform  and  exalted  position.  After 
cross-questioning  the  timid  applicants,  he  passed 
them  along  in  turn  to  be  interrogated  by  the 
Dingizi.  The  interpreter,  in  due  season,  ordered 
them  into  the  august  presence  of  the  arbiter  of 
their  destinies. 

Zuzi  Palaver  is  the  one  above  all  other  white 
officials  who  has  the  seamy  side  of  native  char- 
acter brought   to   his  attention.     He   saw  almost 


Judgment  and  Justice  169 

nothing  of  the  better  qualities  of  the  people,  which 
indeed  were  only  intimately  revealed  to  their 
spiritual  teachers.  What  diverse  and  strange  tales 
were  sometimes  poured  into  his  Honoris  ears  in 
a  single  day!  Some  complaints  were  too  trivial 
for  a  lengthy  hearing,  and  others  too  ancient  to 
travel  farther  than  his  office.  Some  of  the  appli- 
cants bringing  serious  matters  were  passed  on  to 
other  Judges  for  any  additional  steps  that  might 
be  required  in  their  cases. 

Zuzi  often  dismissed  a  complaint  that  was  really 
funny,  and  that  taxed  his  outward  dignity  to  the 
breaking  point.  Then  he  might  be  called  upon 
to  listen  to  a  tale  of  woe  calculated  to  arouse  every 
righteous  fiber  in  indignant  protest  against  such 
cruelty  and  injustice.  From  laughter  to  tears  was 
often  but  a  short  step  in  that  office,  but  generally 
the  stories  that  reached  him  were  saturated  with 
gloom.  More  tales  came  to  Zuzi's  ears  that  re- 
vealed rank  imposition,  abuse  of  authority,  intense 
cruelty,  and  dastardly  crime,  than  matters  of 
lighter  vein. 

Zuzi  absolutely  required  a  keen  sense  of  humor 
for  his  own  benefit,  but  only  the  wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon would  have  served  to  untangle  some  of  the 
knotty  problems  he  had  to  deal  with.  That  pa- 
lavers sometimes  left  his  bureau  more  tangled  than 
when  they  arrived,  was  not  his  fault,  but  simply 
because  he  could  do  no  better  with  them.  The 
Mayombe   man   is   almost   as   keen   a   lawyer   as 


170  A  Congo  Chattel 

he  is  a  shrewd  trader,  and  his  own  cause  is  always 
just  to  him.  It  is  to  him  simply  unthinkable  that 
his  adversary  has  anything  to  say  that  has  in  it 
a  vestige  of  right. 

Mr.  Missionary  himself  sometimes  had  queer 
matters  brought  to  him ;  all  of  the  strange  cases  did 
not  get  into  the  Zuzi's  office.  One  day  a  man  who 
had  been  working  at  the  Vula,  and  who  was  duly 
impressed  with  the  sympathy  that  Mr.  Missionary 
showed  toward  the  oppressed,  presented  himself 
and  demanded  vengeance  on  his  enemies.  His 
principal  complaint  was  that  the  body  of  his 
mother  had  been  cremated  instead  of  being  given 
the  burial  in  earth  to  which  it  was  lawfully  en- 
titled. He  told  Mr.  Missionary  that  she  had  been 
denounced  by  some  evilly  disposed  person  as  a 
witch,  and  that  the  customary  dose  of  poison  had 
been  administered  to  her.  She  had  neither  vomited 
the  nkasa  mess,  nor  had  she  died  the  same  day, 
proving  unquestionably  to  all  reasonable  beings 
that  she  was  innocent  of  the  charge  against  her. 
It  was  not  until  the  next  day  that  she  had  died, 
and  clearly  her  death  then  must  have  been  the 
result  of  some  other  cause  than  the  trial  cup.  Not- 
withstanding this  indisputable  fact  some  of  the  vil- 
lagers had  unreasonably  dragged  away  and  burned 
her  body  instead  of  allowing  it  lawful  and  decent 
interment. 

The  injured  one  demanded,  in  tones  vibrant  with 
deep  feeling  and  with   eyes  flashing  wrath,  that 


Judgment  and  Justice  171 

the  people  of  that  wretched  village  be  compelled 
to  pay  him  a  rich  indemnity  for  his  sufferings,  and 
as  a  punishment  for  their  crime.  Apparently  he 
could  still  observe  the  cruel  outrage  being  perpe- 
trated upon  his  mother's  dead  and  innocent  body 
and  it  seemingly  filled  his  vision  to  the  exclusion  of 
every  other  object. 

Stirred  to  indignation  against  the  offenders,  and 
moved  with  pity  toward  the  young  man,  Mr.  Mis- 
sionary questioned  him  to  secure  further  particu- 
lars. After  he  had  learned  the  name  of  the  vil- 
lage, its  location,  et  cetera,  he  happened  to  ask, 
"When  did  this  affair  occur?" 

The  unabashed  plaintiff, ,  hopeful  of  getting  re- 
dress, stretched  forth  one  arm,  and  with  his  fin- 
gers stiffened  uprightly,  gradually  lowered  his 
hand  until  the  finger  tips  were  stationary,  about 
three  feet  above  the  ground,  and  said, 

"When  I  was  that  height." 

A  swift  mental  calculation  on  the  part  of  Mr. 
Missionary,  who  generally  did  his  reckoning  by 
years  instead  of  by  "so  high,"  revealed  that  the 
affair  must  have  happened  considerably  more  than 
twenty  years  before,  when  the  aggrieved  rhan  was 
probably  about  five  years  old. 

It  was  difficult  for  the  injured  one  to  understand 
why  his  hitherto  sympathetic  hearer  immediately 
lost  all  apparent  interest  in  his  case,  and  refused 
to  summon  any  of  the  guilty  villagers  who  re- 
mained above  ground  to  talk  about  the  matter. 


r72  A  Congo  Chattel 

Just  before  Lelo  and  Vangu  were  ushered  into 
the  room  where  the  white-clothed,  white- faced 
Judge  held  court,  a  strange  tale  had  been  brought 
to  his  ears.  In  the  entry  stood  a  small  group 
that  had  emerged  from  his  chamber  just  as  Lelo 
entered.  The  party  was  composed  of  a  man,  four 
women,  and  a  little  girl.  The  solitary  male  spokes- 
man related  how  waves  of  sickness,  for  which  they 
had  been  unable  to  account,  had  swept  over  their 
village,  carrying  away  most  of  the  inhabitants,  un- 
til now  they  were  the  small  remnant  left  of  all  who 
formerly  occupied  the  stricken  and  devastated 
neighborhood. 

Something  must  be  done,  but  it  was  hard  for 
anyone  of  the  remaining  number  to  do  the  very 
obvious  thing — accuse  another  of  their  number  of 
maliciously  causing  the  calamity.  They  knew  of 
course  that  it  was  witchcraft;  what  else  could 
account  for  such  a  visitation?  They  knew  that 
there  must  be  illegal  complicity  between  one  of 
their  number  and  the  vengeful  spirits,  but  it  was 
hard  for  anyone  to  take  the  initiative  and  charge 
another  even  though  it  was  the  only  way  to  save 
the  few  remaining  lives  in  the  village.  Several 
lives  had  already  fallen  before  the  poison  cup,  and 
they  were  loth  to  continue  that  plan  any  longer. 

At  last  it  was  suggested,  but  with  whom  the 
hint  originated  was  not  made  clear,  that  they  mix 
a  large  cup  of  nkasa,  and  that  all  of  the  five  adults 
partake  of  it.     It  was  needless  to  include  the  tiny 


Judgment  and  Justice  173 

girl  in  the  test,  as  she  was  altogether  too  young  to 
be  mixed  up  in  witchcraft.  They  prepared  the 
poison  and  apparently  all  of  the  company  drank 
deeply  of  the  mixture,  but  the  w^a^a  revealed  that 
none  of  them  were  guilty  as  no  evil  effects  were 
perceptible  upon  anyone. 

What  next  step  they  would  have  devised  and  put 
in  operation  in  order  to  remove  the  affliction  rest- 
ing upon  their  hamlet  will  never  be  known  because 
of  the  interference  of  a  rank  outsider  who  came 
along  and  learned  of  the  circumstances.  He, 
seeking  to  curry  favor,  took  his  information  to 
the  nearest  Medal  Chief  who  happened  to  be 
Mavambu.  Mavambu,  pursuing  his  plain  duty, 
sent  them  alone  to  the  Judge,  as  there  was 
not  enough  in  it  to  make  it  profitable  for  him  to 
keep  the  matter  quiet. 

The  little  party  of  accused  persons  did  not  go 
to  Boma  under  arrest,  but  being  willing  and  anx- 
ious for  any  solution  for  their  troubles,  they,  strange 
to  say,  went  without  escort.  Zuzi  Palaver  after 
hearing  their  tale  passed  up  the  puzzling  case  to  a 
colleague  for  further  action,  and  sent  the  people 
back  home  to  await  his  decision. 

When  permission  was  granted,  Lelo  began  to 
speak  and  to  recount  the  years  of  her  affliction  and 
bondage.  She  started  at  the  beginning  of  her 
troubles  even  though  it  was  pretty  far  back  from 
Mavambu.  Where  else  could  a  Mayombe  woman 
begin  her  story?  And  if  the  Judge  must  know  all 


174  A  Congo  Chattel 

there  was  no  other  place  from  which  to  start. 
Urged  frequently  to  brevity  in  sharp  tones  by  the 
exasperated  Din^zi,  she  reached  the  place  in  her 
tale  where  sooner  than  she  expected  she  fell  into 
Mavambu's  clutches. 

With  forceful  gestures,  and  even  dramatically 
eloquent  at  times,  she  disclosed  her  wretched  lot. 
She  told  of  her  antipathy  to  Mavambu,  brought  on 
by  his  bad  treatment  and  lack  of  proper  support 
for  herself  and  the  children. 

With  tears  flooding  her  eyes,  she  related  the  story 
of  her  precious  little  boy  who  about  two  years 
before  had  been  killed  through  the  treatment  of 
an  ignorant  fetich  priest.  Notwithstanding  her 
protests  Mavambu  had  snatched  the  sick  child 
from  her  breast  and  handed  him  to  the  witch- 
doctor. Mavambu  alone  was  to  blame  for  the 
sufferings  and  death  of  the  boy.  Her  children  had 
turned  against  him,  and  his  own  little  girl  could 
not  bear  to  look  upon  him,  but  fled  at  his  approach 
as  if  he  were  the  incarnation  of  evil. 

She  described  the  scene  in  her  field,  and  how  he 
himself  had  driven  her  away  with  violent  threats 
of  bodily  harm  when  he  waved  his  cruel  matchete 
before  her  face.  She  begged  the  Zuzi  to  deliver 
her,  even  though  Mavambu  had  apparently  re- 
pented and  wanted  her  to  return  to  his  compound. 
She  prayed  that  Zuzi  would  permit  her  to  live  her 
own  life  free  from  the  ownership  of  Mavambu  or 
any  other  person. 


Judgment  and  Justice  175 

Zuzi  Palaver  was  so  accustomed  to  hearing  glib 
lies  that  he  was  quick  to  turn  from  them  in  dis- 
gust. Even  though  they  appeared  in  the  guise  of  the 
utmost  frankness  and  bore  every  outer  mark  of 
honesty  he  readily  detected  and  rejected  them  with- 
out ceremony.  But  he  knew  that  Lelo  was  sin- 
cere, and  could  not  but  be  impressed  with  her 
truthfulness.  The  simple  recital  of  a  few  of  her 
varied  experiences  revealed  her  indeed  as  a  much- 
wronged  woman. 

As  a  "plural  wife"  she  was  free,  but  was  not 
aware  of  it.  He  would  enlighten  her,  and  that  was 
all  that  was  required.  He  said  that  if  her  tale 
was  true  nobody  had  any  legal  claim  upon  her; 
she  was  of  age,  and  under  obligation  to  no  one. 
There  was  no  need  to  spend  more  time  over  the 
matter;  the  case  was  practically  settled.  He  said 
that  according  to  the  laws  of  the  present  "lords  of 
the  land,"  which  were  printed  in  books  and  brought 
into  the  country  by  Bula  Matadi,  her  body  was 
allowed  to  be  her  very  own.  He  stated  that  no 
Congo  man  could  take  possession  of  her  against  her 
will;  she  could  go  to  the  one  that  she  wanted,  or 
to  no  one  at  all,  if  that  pleased  her  best. 

Zuzi  gave  her  permission  to  return  to  her  own 
village  to  live,  or  to  go  back  to  the  Vula.  Her 
choice  would  be  nobody's  business,  said  he,  but 
her  own.  She  could  go  where  she  liked  and  stay 
as  long  as  she  pleased.  She  was  immediately  to 
inform  everybody  concerned  that  she  was  free,  and 


176  A  Congo  Chattel 

that  she  was  to  say  that  he  had  told  her  to  tell 
them  so. 

"Wherever  you  decide  to  go,  you  go  there  a  free 
woman." 

They  were  simple  words  and  only  a  plain  state- 
ment of  the  law.  That  the  law  was  practically 
a  dead  letter  and  not  recognized  in  real  life,  was 
not  the  fault  of  the  law,  but  of  its  interpreters. 
To  Lelo  the  decision  and  instructions  of  Zusi  were 
the  very  irrevocable  words  of  life. 

"I  thank  you,  Mfumu,  I  thank  you,"  she  mur- 
mured brokenly. 

There  were  tears  in  her  tones;  her  throat  and 
tongue  were  clogged,  she  could  hardly  speak.  She 
stood  with  bowed  head,  twisting  her  hands  in  ah 
embarrassment  of  unutterable  gratitude.  It  was 
really  too  good  to  be  true,  but  it  was  true,  how- 
ever unbelievable  it  seemed. 

It  must  be  true  because  it  was  written  in  the 
book,  and  the  White  Man  had  said  that  it  was  so. 
With  her  own  ears  she  had  heard  the  strange 
sounds  that  the  Mundele  had  uttered;  which  be- 
ing skilfully  explained  by  the  Dingizi  in  her.  own 
familiar  tongue  made  the  matter  quite  plain.  It 
was  true,  she  was  free  and  happy! 

The  dingy  room,  with  its  few  dusty,  shabby 
pieces  of  worn  furniture,  became  a  veritable 
earthly  palace.  This  speedy  transformation  was 
not  in  fact  but  in  the  mental  attitude  of  Lelo. 
She  had  gone  into  the  presence  of  the  Judge  in 


GROUP   OF      ZINKIMBA  A   SECRET   SOCIETY   FOR 

BOYS 


GROUP  OF  EVANGELISTS 


Judgment  and  Justice  177 

fear  and  trembling,  and  with  many  misgivings  she 
had  made  known  her  sad  story.  The  reply  of  the 
Zuzi  to  her  plea  had  effected  the  change.  What  a 
delightful  place  the  room  then  became  to  her. 

She  had  been  standing  during  the  whole  time 
before  a  long  table  covered  with  black  oilcloth  and 
strewn  with  writing  materials.  Plainly  bound 
books  were  arranged  upon  unpainted  deal  shelves 
behind  the  only  chair  the  room  afforded  and  in 
which  the  Judge  was  seated.  The  room  and  con- 
tents were  all  severely  simple  and  intended  for 
practical  use,  but  to  Lelo  it  was  as  the  antechamber 
of  a  palace  of  beauty  and  delight. 

At  one  end  of  the  long  table,  standing  so  as 
to  look  from  the  face  of  the  Zuzi  to  that  of  the 
plaintiff  without  the  necessity  of  turning,  was  the 
interpreter.  Blocking  the  doorway,  standing  at 
attention,  was  an  armed  soldier,  dressed  in  blue 
blouse  with  red  facings,  and  the  usual  fez  cap. 
Through  the  western  window  the  sun's  blazing  rays 
now  entered,  robbed  of  much  of  their  force  in 
filtering  through  a  mass  of  green  leaves  belong- 
ing to  the  tree  shading  the  veranda.  In  the 
room,  dancing  gaily  along  in  the  sun-lighted  path, 
were  countless  happy,  whirling  motes.  Zuzi's 
gray- faced  pet  monkey  jumped  up  on  the  sill  and 
chattered  to  its  master  to  the  squawking  accom- 
paniment of  a  frightened  gray  parrot  perched  be- 
hind his  chair. 

It  all  looked  so  good  to  Lelo — such  is  the  power 


17B  A  Congo  Chattel 

of  a  man's  word — that  she  could  have  danced  along 
with  the  swift-moving  motes,  and  chattered  too 
with  the  funny  and  friendly  little  monkey.  She 
was  joyful  because  she  was  free,  and  wanted  to  join 
with  all  the  world  in  a  chorus  of  praise.  She  could 
never  forget  that  room;  it  was  photographed  on 
her  mind,  and  the  bright,  happy  picture  would  never 
fade  from  her  vision. 

The  Zuzi,  in  his  white  starched  linen,  seated 
smilingly  at  ease  upon  his  leather-covered  throne, 
and  who  had  with  such  calmness  pronounced  the 
momentous,  bond-breaking  words,  was  to  her  the 
incarnation  of  justice.  Never  could  she  forget, 
or  fail  to  be  thankful  for,  the  few  precious  mo- 
ments spent  in  that  place — the  spot  where  her 
fondest  dreams  had  now  been  made  real.  Praise 
welled  from  her  happy  heart  to  her  Master  on  high, 
to  Him  Who  had  not  only  freed  her  soul  but  had 
now  delivered  her  body  from  the  degrading 
shackles  of  physical  slavery  to  Mavambu.  How 
good  it  would  be  to  get  out  into  the  open  and  to 
run  and  jump  and  clap  hands  with  Vangu,  rejoic- 
ing together  in  victory.  On  such  a  day  it  was 
good  to  be  alive — and  free! 

She  was  recalled  rapidly  to  earth,  and  the  pro- 
saic affairs  of  an  everyday  world,  by  the  voice  of 
the  interpreter  asking  her  about  Vangu.  It  then 
suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  she  had  nothing  to 
show  to  substantiate  her  claim  to  liberty.  She 
asked  humbly  of  the  Judge, 


Judgment  and  Justice  179 

"Sir,  write  your  good  words  in  a  book.  Give  me 
nkanda  to  show  to  skeptics  who  may  deny  that 
I  am  free." 

"Your  name  is  now  written  in  my  book,"  he  as- 
sured her,  pointing  to  his  notes ;  "nobody  will  ven- 
ture to  molest  you." 

But  Lelo  was  impressed  with  the  necessity  of 
getting  some  tangible  scrap  of  evidence.  Like  all 
her  kind,  she  attached  value  out  of  all  proportion 
to  any  written  document.     She  made  bold  to  insist, 

"Mfumu,  Mavambu  will  not  believe  my  word. 
Please  give  me  a  'book'  for  my  own." 

Without  further  objection  his  Honor,  willing  to 
put  her  at  ease,  hastily  scribbled  a  few  words  in 
French  on  a  scrap  of  paper,  and  handed  it  to  her. 
It  was  a  very  brief  note  saying  that  Lelo  was  no 
longer  a  "chattel"  to  be  handed  about  or  disposed 
of  at  the  will  of  another,  but  was  a  free  person. 

Her  sinking  joy  revived;  she  could  have  cried 
while  she  laughed.  For  twenty  years  she  had 
moved  at  the  beck  and  call  and  trembled  at  the 
nod  of  exacting  masters.  Now  she  was  her  own 
master  by  virtue  of  that  precious  slip.  She  seized 
the  paper,  and  tried  to  see  the  writing  before  the 
ink  was  dry,  but  all  that  she  could  make  out  was 
a  confused  blur.  Her  wet  eyes  were  at  fault; 
the  writing  was  plain  enough. 

The  interpreter  asked  again  about  Vangu, 
sharply  this  time,  not  relishing  interruptions  at  such 
an  hour.    Time  was  pressing,  the  office  hours  for  the 


i8o  A  Congo  Chattel 

day  were  about  ended,  and  they  had  waited  nearly 
the  whole  day  to  get  a  hearing.  Vangu  told  the  gist 
of  her  tale  in  a  few,  broken,  low  sentences.  She 
bashfully  admitted  that  one  of  her  reasons  for  flee- 
ing from  Mavambu  was  because  she  was  in  love 
with  another.  There  had  been  nothing  said  about 
marriage;  it  was  early  yet,  and  the  matter  had  not 
reached  that  length.  There  was  no  doubt  about 
her  dread  of  the  ancient  suitor  who  had  paid  down 
some  cloth  for  a  claim  on  her  body.  It  would  have 
been  cruel  to  turn  her  over  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  Mavambu. 

Zuzi  took  one  of  the  few  remaining  moments  to 
suggest  quizzically, 

"Maybe  Mavambu  would  make  you  a  good 
husband  ?" 

"No,  Mfumu,  no,"  she  hastily  interjected,  "not 
Mavambu !" 

Observing  her  unfeigned  alarm,  he  kindly  told 
her: 

"No  man  can  force  you  to  marry  him,  especially 
one  who  has  another  wife." 

His  refreshing  words  were  as  heavy  dews  upon 
hard,  dry-season  soil;  she  too  turned  away  with 
lightened  heart,  grateful  to  the  kind  white  lord. 
Together  they  went  from  the  office  back  to  the 
Vula,  where  they  were  to  pass  the  night. 

Alas,  poor  Lelo  and  Vangu,  they  were  soon  to 
have  another  lesson.  They  were  to  be  impressed 
more  deeply  than  ever  with  the  truth  that  earthly 


Judgment  and  Justice  i8i 

joys  are  fleeting  and  that  the  word  of  man  is  but  a 
frail  staff  of  comfort.  They  would  have  suffered 
from  disturbing  dreams  that  night,  had  they  known 
of  the  storm  clouds  gathering  about  their  heads, 
and  that  were  to  break  on  the  morrow  with  the 
arrival  of  Mavambu. 


© 


CHAPTER    XII. 

Zuzi  Temporizes. 

OILING  inwardly  with  wrath,  and  sweat- 
ing under  the  burden  of  his  official  coat, 
Mavambu,  at  the  head  of  his  indig- 
nant followers,  marched  into  Boma  early  on  the 
following  morning.  Bedraggled  and  grimy  from 
the  dew-laden  grass  and  the  ashes  of  their  camp- 
fire  they  made  their  way  to  the  hut  of  a  friend  to 
rest  and  change  before  going  up  to  the  Judge.  To 
their  great  indignation  they  learned  from  a  rumor 
current  among  some  Vungu  people  who  were  work- 
ing at  Boma  that  the  palaver  which  had  brought 
them  there  had  been  settled  the  day  before. 

The  news  caused  Mavambu  to  hasten  his  move- 
ments and  before  the  office  was  open  he  was  on 
his  way  to  the  seat  of  justice.  He  did  not  approach 
the  house  of  the  Zuzi  at  once  but  stopped  to  see 
his  friend  the  interpreter  from  whom  he  learned 
full  particulars  of  the  case.  Before  presenting  his 
friend  with  the  slight  tokens  of  regard  he  had 
brought  from  his  village,  he  informed  him  that 
the  two  women  who  had  been  so  carelessly  freed 
yesterday  were  related  to  him;  that  one  was  part- 
ly paid  for,  and  that  the  other  was  wholly  his  own 
property. 


Zuzi  Temporizes  183 

To  say  that  the  interpreter  was  chagrined  would 
be  to  put  it  mildly.  His  lack  of  interest  in  the  case 
of  the  preceding  day  quickly  changed.  After  he 
had  penned  the  fowls  in  a  place  of  safety,  he 
thought  out  a  plan  to  retrieve  the  lost  game.  He 
had  cared  but  little  one  way  or  the  other  during 
the  hearing  at  Zusi's  office,  because,  as  far  as  he 
knew,  he  was  unacquainted  with  any  of  the  people 
who  were  mixed  up  in  the  affair.  Mavambu  is 
such  a  common  name  that  it  is  met  with  as  fre- 
quently as  Makwala,  or  Mpeso,  so  he  had  not  suf- 
ficient reason  to  connect  "Mavambu"  with  his  gen- 
erous old  friend,  the  Medal  Chief  of  Yenge. 

A  woman,  and  especially  one  who  had  brought 
him  no  gift  in  her  hand,  could  not  possibly  be 
right  in  any  case  wherein  open-handed  Mavambu 
was  interested.  He  could  only  express  his  deep 
regret  for  the  miscarriage  of  justice  that  had  oc- 
curred because  all  the  circumstances  were  not 
known  at  the  time,  and  promise  that  he  would  do 
everything  in  his  power  now  to  rectify  the  error. 

He  left  for  his  office  to  put  Zuzi  in  touch  with 
the  new  developments,  to  tell  him  of  the  deceitful 
women,  who  with  "mouths  full  of  lies"  had  taken 
advantage  of  the  kind  heart  of  the  good  White 
Man  who  of  course  was  not  expected  to  fathom 
such  depths  of  native  hypocrisy. 

Standing  before  the  Zuzi,  after  being  summoned 
to  his  presence,  Mavambu  appeared  to  every  eye  a 
badly    used     and     long-suffering    husband.     The 


1 84  A  Congo  Chattel 

white-clad  gentleman  seated  behind  the  long  table 
could  easily  observe  that  he  was  greatly  moved  by 
his  wrongs.  When  permission  was  granted  him  to 
speak,  Mavambu  so  presented  his  side  of  the  case 
that  the  whole  matter  at  once  took  on  a  very  dif- 
ferent aspect.  In  the  first  place  Zuzi  had  been  al- 
together unaware  of  the  fact  that  the  outraged  hus- 
band was  a  Medal  Chief,  and  that  he  was  hastening 
on  his  way  to  Boma  to  seek  justice,  even  while 
the  woman  was  telling  the  Zuzi  her  story. 

Lelo  had  refrained  from  presenting  any  irrele- 
vant matters  to  his  attention,  particularly  such  as 
might  have  helped  the  other  side.  As  any  other 
Mayombe  woman  would  have  done,  she  had  avoided 
saying  anything  that  would  prejudice  her  own  good 
cause. 

But  now  Mavambu  was  here  to  speak  for  him- 
self, having  no  lack  of  good  words  to  say  in  de- 
fense of  his  own  worthy  suit.  The  medal  lay 
resplendent  on  the  rusty  bosom  of  his  black  frock 
coat.  The  steel  chain  to  which  it  was  usually  at- 
tached was  lacking,  but  in  its  place  was  a  bit  of 
ribbon,  and  a  safety  pin  with  which  to  fasten  it 
in  imitation  of  the  way,  as  he  had  noted,  high  offi- 
cials wore  their  decorations.  The  medal,  although 
of  common  material,  threw  much  light  on  the  case, 
shining  glaringly  in  protest  against  the  shabby 
treatment  of  a  tricky  woman,  and  made  restless  by 
its  owner's  rapid  breathing  induced  by  his  over- 
wrought feelings. 


Zuzi  Temporizes  185 

Mavambu  smothered  his  rage/  and  with  an  at- 
tempt at  an  ingratiating  smile,  said  by  way  of 
introduction, 

"Mfumu,  I  am  the  Medal  Chief  of  Yenge!" 

Zud  had  already  been  informed  of  this  fact,  so 
he  contented  himself  with  merely  saying, 

"Yes,  well?" 

"The  woman  to  whom  you  gave  yesterday  'the 
book  of  liberty'  is  mine!" 

Zu2i  puffed  meditatively  at  his  cigarette,  and 
flicked  the  ashes  through  the  open  window  with  the 
tip  of  a  manicured  nail  before  questioning  slowly, 

"So!  How  is  that?" 

"Her  tale  to  you,  Mfumu,  was  *lies  and  lies 
only' !" 

"You  abused  her,  failed  to  provide  for  the  little 
ones,  and  at  last  drove  her  away  in  anger." 

When  this  had  been  rendered  into  homely  Ki- 
kongo  from  imported  French,  Mavambu  gasped 
with  astonishment.  He  turned  his  eyes  in  speech- 
less denial  from  the  interpreter  toward  the  loyal 
friends  who  had  been  permitted  to  enter  the  room 
with  him.  His  looks  appealed  to  them  eloquently 
and  demanded  to  know  whether  they  in  all  their 
lives  had  ever  listened  to  such  a  monstrous  charge, 
and  if  they  thought  that  female  duplicity  could  go 
any  farther  on  the  way  to  perfection  of  deceit. 

As  soon  as  he  had  recovered  breath  from  the 
shock,  he  hastened  to  say, 

"Mfumu,   she  lied!     Not  only  did   I   free  her 


i86  A  Congo  Chattel 

from  bondage,  but  I  have  always  'carefully  kept 
her';  as  these  my  witnesses  will  testify." 

The  said  witnesses  hurriedly  endeavored  to  ex- 
press themselves,  manifesting  great  willingness  to 
impart  any  information  in  their  possession.  They 
were  silenced  by  the  orderly  interpreter  and  asked 
to  wait  until  the  Judge  called  for  their  evidence. 

Without  waiting  to  listen  to  a  laudation  of  Ma- 
vambu,  setting  him  forth  as  a  paragon  of  husbands, 
his  Honor  spoke.  He  averred  that  there  were  two 
sides  to  every  case,  and  as  now  the  other  side  had 
appeared  unexpectedly,  Lelo  should  be  recalled,  and 
the  affair  reopened.  He  ordered  that  all  the  par- 
ties concerned  should  meet  at  his  office  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  same  day. 

Mavambu  had  scored  a  victory  and  he  went  off 
elated,  proudly  boasting  of  it.  For  the  ultimate 
outcome  he  had  no  fears ;  his  friend  the  interpreter 
understood  the  case  so  well  that  he  was  sure  the 
matter  would  be  explained  correctly  to  the  Judge. 
As  none  of  the  company  knew  any  French  they 
would  be  able  only  by  the  final  result  to  estimate 
how  much  of  the  evidence  had  percolated  to  the 
ears  of  the  Judge  during  the  proceedings. 

Yenge  was  represented  early  in  the  afternoon 
by  a  full  force  gathered  outside  Zuzi  Palaver's 
office.  They  waited  quietly  in  the  shade  of  a  squat 
drab  soft  baobab  tree  of  colossal  girth  while  Zuzi 
enjoyed  his  after-lunch  siesta,     A  score  of  people 


Zuzi  Temporizes  187 

found  roomy  benches  on  the  huge,  exposed  roots, 
projecting  a  foot  or  more  out  of  the  ground. 

The  shade  came  more  from  the  enormous  limbs 
than  from  the  few  small  leaves  and  great  fruit 
pods  dangling  from  the  tips  of  the  branches.  Mul- 
titudes of  people  having  business  at  court  had 
rested  under  the  shelter  of  that  tree  during  the 
long  delays  that  attended  nearly  every  case.  It 
was  the  usual  meeting  place  for  those  who  had 
fallen  under  the  dread  shadow  of  the  law. 

Although  there  were  no  indications  of  rain  sev- 
eral of  the  women  proudly  held  black  cotton  um- 
brellas. Few  would  have  been  so  foolish  and  im- 
provident as  to  use  them  in  a  storm;  some  would 
rather  have  protected  them  beneath  their  clothing. 
Umbrellas  being  a  plain  indication  of  affluence,  and 
of  considerable  value  in  themselves,  were  not,  of 
course,  to  be  lightly  exposed  to  tropical  downpours. 

Many  of  the  "citified"  men  had  canes,  holding 
them  in  the  most  approved  style  or  twirling  them 
about  as  they  had  observed  the  foreign  lords  do. 
The  incongruity  was  not  apparent  to  a  washerman, 
passing  on  his  way  to  the  river,  bearing  a  wash  table 
on  his  head,  with  the  week's  wash  fastened  to  the 
top  in  a  sheet,  and  the  ivory  handle  of  an  ebony 
cane  striking  his  bare  legs.  He  was  simply  a  vo- 
tary of  fashion,  and  thus  failed  to  observe  the  dis- 
cordant element,  so  apparent  to  common  people. 
It  was  all  harmonious  to  him,  because  the  fashion- 
able class  carried  canes.    That  they  did  not  souse 


1 88  A  Congo  Chattel 

dirty  clothes  in  the  river  for  a  living  was  another 
matter. 

Only  the  principals  were  allowed  to  enter  Zuzi's 
room  when  the  closing  session  of  the  case  of  Ma- 
vambu  versus  Lelo  was  called.  At  the  far  end  of 
the  table  stood  the  two  women  and  their  faithful 
guide,  Tubi.  Nearer  to  the  interpreter  was  Ma- 
vambu,  who  was  supported  by  two  staunch  adher- 
ents guaranteed  to  know  anything  about  the  affair 
that  inclined  favorably  toward  their  Chief. 

Lelo  was  questioned  in  regard  to  her  testimony 
as  it  appeared  on  Zuzi's  notes  because  every  impor- 
tant truth  she  had  affirmed  had  been  stoutly  denied 
by  her  master.  She  held  strictly  to  her  original 
statements,  and  cross-examination  failed  to  alter 
any  of  the  essential  facts  that  had  made  her  side 
of  the  matter  look  so  favorable  on  the  preceding 
day.  The  difficulty  now,  however,  was  not  in  the 
facts  of  the  case,  but  in  the  much  more  serious 
matter  of  Mavambu's  great  dissatisfaction. 

Zuzi  was  indeed  in  an  awkward  dilemma;  a 
faithful  servant  to  the  State  like  Mavambu  was 
entitled  to  some  consideration.  It  would  certainly 
be  unwise,  to  say  the  least,  to  send  him  away  with 
his  wrongs  rankling  under  the  coat- front  on  which 
hung  his  proud  decoration. 

Zuzi  was  not  long  in  reaching  that  conclusion, 
and  yet  there  was  the  woman  who  no  doubt  was 
in  the  right.  Circumstances  all  pointed  to  a  hard 
time  ahead  for  her  if  she  fell  again  into  the  hands 


Zuzi  Temporizes  189 

of  her  lord.  What  should  he  do,  what  could  he 
do?  He  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  consign 
her  unreservedly  to  Mavambu's  tender  mercies,  and 
he  must  not  let  her  go  altogether  free.  He  would 
help  both  parties  a  little  if  possible;  but  his  vacil- 
lation confused  matters,  and  did  no  more  than  upset 
both  plaintiff  and  defendant. 

Zuzi  asked  for  the  "book"  which  he  had  given 
Lelo,  but  she  pretended  not  to  understand  the  in- 
terpreter. She  was  reluctant  to  comprehend  that 
it  was  to  be  produced;  she  feared  for  its  safety. 
She  was  sharply  commanded  to  give  it  up  quickly. 
With  unwilling  fingers  she  slowly  picked  at  the 
knotted  end  of  her  loin  cloth,  where  the  document 
was  enshrined.  What  joy  she  had  experienced  in 
the  possession  of  the  precious  scrap,  and  how  often 
since  yesterday  she  had  fingered  it  with  keenest 
satisfaction. 

"Hand  it  over,  it  is  not  needed  now.  I  will  set- 
tle the  palaver  in  another  way,"  observed  Zuzi. 

Taking  it  in  his  own  clean  hands,  smeared  and 
dirty  as  it  was,  from  the  trembling  fingers,  he  slow- 
ly tore  the  scrap  into  tiny  bits,  dropping  them  one 
by  one  into  the  basket  by  his  chair. 

Her  eyes  sadly  followed  the  deliberate  move- 
ments of  the  same  fingers  that  had  previously  so 
skilfully  penned  her  right  to  freedom,  as  they  now 
tore  her  hopes  into  shreds.  In  her  disappointment 
she  became  bitterly  conscious  of  the  folly  of 
trusting  in  an  earthly  prince,  or  of  building  high 


IQO  A  Congo  Chattel 

anticipations  upon  a  flimsy  piece  of  common  writ- 
ing paper.  Her  new-found  white  friend  had  failed 
her,  and  the  precious  document  was  gone  forever ! 

"Drop  the  old  palaver,  and  go  back  to  your 
Chief,"  he  advised  in  a  kindly  way. 

She  was  silent,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  dirt- 
tracked  board  floor.  The  interpretation  of  the 
Dingizi  did  not  even  cause  her  to  look  up  for  she 
had  lost  all  heart  in  the  affair. 

"Forget  your  troubles  for  your  children's  sake." 

Lelo  dumbly  shook  her  head  in  rejection,  and  as 
some  reply  seemed  to  be  required  said  simply, 

"Nana,  Father,  I  cannot." 

"I  do  not  command  you  to  go  back  to  Mavambu, 
but  I  see  now  that  it  is  the  best  course  for  you." 

She  had  so  little  interest,  and  so  few  words  at 
command,  that  she  did  not  trouble  to  answer  in 
dissent  with  more  than  the  speaking  Mayombe 
shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

With  unintentional  irony  Zuzi  ordered  Mavambu 
to  take  better  care  of  his  women  and  children. 
"Better  care"  was  comparative,  intimating  some 
previous  attention.  It  had  been  a  good  many  years 
since  Lelo  had  known  any  care  at  all — not  since 
she  had  been  dragged  away  from  the  only  arms 
that  had  toiled  for  her  and  carried  her  over  the 
rough  places  of  early  childhood.  She  had  never 
known  any  loving  ministrations  since  that  time 
from  her  own  kind,  but  she  herself  had  done  a  lot 


Zuzi  Temporizes  191 

of  looking  after  and  providing  for  others.  Zuzi 
was  quite  unaware  of  his  sarcasm. 

"You  must  give  her  a  new  loin  cloth  occasion- 
ally," said  he. 

The  interpreter's  loud  command  filtered  through 
Mavambu's  straining  ear.  In  Mavambu's  counte- 
nance, turned  to  the  Zuzi,  was  observable  his  most 
obedient,  anxious-to-please  expression. 

"And  buy  some  masambu  (stock  fish)  for  the 
family  pot;  you  must  feed  and  dress  them  well,  if 
you  want  to  live  in  peace,"  instructed  Zuzi, 
paternally. 

"Yes,  yes,  Mfumu,  T  hear  you  indeed' " — which 
delighted  reply  meant  that  Mavambu  heard  but  to 
obey.  He  not  only  agreed  to  every  injunction,  but 
offered  to  do  even  more  than  was  laid  upon  him. 

Lelo,  sullenly  refusing  to  look  his  way,  rejected 
Mavambu's  compromise,  and  uttered  again  her  de- 
spairing objection  to  the  Zuzi, 

"Nana,  Tatar 

She  was  abruptly  silenced  by  the  interpreter  who 
irritably  remembered  that  this  obstinate,  cheap 
woman  who  was  making  him  so  much  extra  work 
had  brought  him  nothing  to  refresh  himself  with 
when  his  strenuous  day's  work  was  done. 

Now  if  Mavambu  had  honestly  intended  to  fulfil 
his  fluent  promises,  and  if  Lelo's  being  had  con- 
sisted of  only  stomach  and  back — the  one  to  regale 
with  odorous  stock  fish,  and  the  other  to  adorn  with 
gaudy  calico — then  the  matter  had  been  wisely  de- 


192  A  Congo  Chattel 

cided.  As  it  was,  one  quite  important  item  had 
seemingly  been  overlooked  by  Zuzi  in  reckoning 
her  make-up — her  heart.  She  really  had  one,  and 
it  was  still  untouched  and  unyielding  after  all  the 
rich  promises  of  plenty,  so  glibly  presented  by  Ma- 
Vambu  to  Zuzi  Palaver. 

Lelo  turned  sadly  from  the  seat  of  justice  and 
went  out  and  down  the  steps,  followed  by  her  young 
friend.  She  protested  in  an  agony  of  despair  that 
she  would  sooner  die  than  return  to  the  death-in- 
life  from  which  she  had  escaped. 

Vangu  had  been  broadly  included  in  the  new  ver- 
dict; Zuzi's  advice  was  addressed  to  her  as  well  as 
to  Lelo.  She  dogged  Lelo's  heels  in  silent  and  lov- 
ing sympathy  as  they  returned  native- fashion  in 
single  file,  with  leaden  steps,  to  the  shelter  of  the 
Vula, 

Mavambu  followed  hard  after  the  women,  and 
soon  presented  himself  at  the  Mission,  demanding 
that  they  pick  up  their  traps,  and  accompany  him 
back  to  Yenge  at  once.  He  did  not  get  a  chance  to 
speak  to  either  one  of  the  women  because  they  had 
fled  to  the  protection  of  the  hanga  (house)  when 
they  saw  him  coming  up  the  hill.  Mrs.  Missionary 
took  the  women  to  her  own  room,  while  Mr.  Mis- 
sionary settled  the  palaver  with  Mavambu  in  a  few 
brief  sentences.     Said  Mavambu, 

"I  have  come  for  my  women.*' 

"Did  the  Judge  say  that  you  could  have  them?" 


•■■4r-~_.' 

«-  J 

-Bjtgsiiiffiiffi**'*  ,  , 

^' 

1 

.:  .-'  • 

-  ■'■■• 

Si. 

Zuzi  Temporizes  193 

pleasantly  inquired  Mr.  Missionary,  making  no 
move  to  comply  with  the  demand. 

"Yes,  he  decided  the  case  in  my  favor.  He  said 
they  were  to  return  home  with  me." 

"Oh,  then  in  that  case  I  have  been  misinformed. 
I  was  told  that  the  matter  was  optional  with  them." 

''Mfumu,  you  were  misinformed,  maybe  because 
most  bush  people  don't  understand  the  dialect  used 
down  here." 

"The  women  don't  want  to  go  with  you,  so  I  will 
not  force  them  away." 

"But,  the  Zu2i  said  that  they  must !" 

"Then  you  had  better  get  a  'book'  from  the  Zuzi 
to  that  effect,  and  in  the  meantime  until  I  read  the 
decision  in  his  own  handwriting  we  shall  keep  them 
safely  here." 

Mavambu  blustered  and  wasted  more  time  and 
words,  until  Mr.  Missionary  finally  told  him  to 
go.  He  left  the  station  growling  out  threats  of 
vengeance. 

He  hastened  back  to  the  Zuzi  with  a  carefully 
embellished  story  of  Mr.  Missionary's  interference, 
and  suggested  that  a  soldier  be  despatched  to  snatch 
the  women  away  from  the  meddlers,  who  were  al- 
ways interfering  with  Bula  Matddi's  business. 
Zuzi  temporized  again  by  saying  that  the  women 
would  no  doubt  return  to  his  arms  when  they  got 
back  up-country,  and  that  he  had  better  permit 
them  to  go  up  alone  without  his  kind  escort.  As 
there  was  really  no  charge  that  could  have  been 


194  A  Congo  Chattel 

rightly  laid  against  either  of  the  women  the  Zuzi 
did  not  think  it  necessary  to  send  a  soldier  to  the 
Vula  after  them. 

The  ultimate  decision  of  the  Court  had  left  the 
cases  hanging  fire,  with  both  sides  uncertain  and 
dissatisfied.  When  Lelo  heard  that  Mavambu  still 
had  a  claim  upon  her,  and  when  Mavambu  saw  that 
she  did  not  mean  to  return  to  his  compound  with- 
out a  struggle,  then  neither  side  was  content.  As 
for  Mavambu  he  could  better  afford  to  wait  since 
he  had  much  of  the  law  on  his  side,  both  local 
and  imported ;  and  no  sane  native  would  lightly  dis- 
regard his  claims.  Lelo  was  his  woman,  bound  by 
the  law  of  custom;  and  as  for  Vangu,  who  would 
venture  to  marry  her?  As  long  as  his  cloth  re-- 
posed  in  the  strong  box  of  her  owners,  his  option 
on  her  body  could  not  be  easily  set  aside. 

Time  was  no  more  a  consideration  to  Mavambu 
than  to  any  other  Mayombe  man,  and  then  there 
were  always  changes  to  be  expected.  Mr.  Mission- 
ary might  die,  or  leave  the  country  as  others  had 
done  before  him,  and  then  what  could  prevent  Ma- 
vambu from  seizing  his  own  and  forcing  them  back 
into  bondage. 

Damocles'  sword  hung  swaying  above  the  heads 
of  the  two  women,  and  they  must  henceforth  live 
in  dread  of  the  threatened  disaster.  It  was  too  bad 
that  Zuzi  Palaver  had  changed  his  mind.  If  he 
had  only  permitted  her  to  keep  her  "book,"  thought 
Lelo,  that  would  have  obviated  every  perplexity 


Zuzi  Temporizes  195 

that  now  made  the  homeward  journey  so  sombre. 

There  was  nothing  further  to  keep  them  at 
Boma,  so  the  women  planned  to  leave  secretly,  and 
get  back  as  soon  as  possible  to  the  safety  of  the 
Vula  at  Yenge  from  which  they  had  started  so  full 
of  hope  a  few  days  before.  Fear  of  being  over- 
taken hastened  their  movements,  else  the  journey 
would  have  been  made  with  lagging  feet.  The 
little  caravan  halted  for  a  few  minutes  on  the  hill- 
side overlooking  Boma.  They  paused  to  look  out 
across  the  swift  brown  torrent  racing  seaward,  and 
over  the  scattered  houses  which  formed  the  won- 
derful town  of  the  white  foreigners. 

Lelo*s  eyes  lingered  upon  the  white  house  of  the 
Zusi  perched  high  on  the  hill.  What  rapturous 
heights  of  hope  she  had  mounted  there ;  and  to  what 
depths  of  dull  despair  she  had  been  cast  under  that 
glaring  roof.  Her  heart  was  now  heavy  as  lead, 
crushed  by  the  realization  of  failure,  and  of  the 
dull  truth  that  she  was  still  only  a  chattel  of 
Mavambu's. 

"God  help  me !"  The  words  were  faintly  uttered 
and  her  companions  did  not  hear  them — but  He 
heard,  and  answered.  He  always  does.  She  saw  then 
beyond  the  Palace  of  Justice,  with  its  sordid  limi- 
tations of  human  wisdom;  beyond  the  squalid  con- 
fines of  Mavambu's  village;  far  into  a  future 
brightened  by  the  love  of  Christ  that  no  earthl> 
cloud  could  hide.  She  did  not  underrate  what  it 
would  mean  to  be  once  more  in  Mavambu's  clutches. 


196  A  Congo  Chattel 

but  she  understood  more  clearly  that  the  body  he 
might  be  able  to  seize  was  only  a  decaying  one; 
that  Christ  held  fast  her  undying  soul. 

There  came  to  her  the  reassuring  consciousness 
of  the  grip  of  strong  arms  which  were  to  hold  her 
firmly  to  the  end,  the  end  which  was  but  a  new  be- 
ginning. Arms  that  would  support  her — her  un- 
dying self — after  the  clay  in  which  she  lived  was 
broken  and  laid  away.  Nobody  could  ever  seize 
or  barter  away  her  soul ;  she  knew  that  it  was  now 
His,  and  that  He  would  guard  it  well. 

Looking  back  she  thought  of  the  trying  events  of 
the  past  days,  and  then  ahead  she  saw  Yenge  in  the 
shadow  of  an  unknown  future.  And  last  of  all 
she  lifted  her  eyes  hopefully  to  the  clear  sky  behind 
the  fleecy,  slow-moving  clouds,  where  her  future 
peaceful  habitation  was  assured  forever. 

Tears  hid  all  other  objects,  but  she  could  see 
Him  better  through  them,  and  her  heart  swelled 
with  the  glad  thought  of  spiritual  freedom — away 
from  Boma,  beyond  Yenge,  farther  than  the  utter- 
most earth;  somewhere  with  Him  which  would  be 
heaven  indeed.  How  He  must  have  loved  her, 
poor  black,  ignorant  Congo  chattel  that  she  was, 
that  He  could  lay  down  His  own  life  for  her ;  and 
how  she  thanked  Him  now! 

Lelo  came  down  to  earth,  and  said  to  her  young 
friend : 

"Come  along,  Vangu,  let  us  hurry.     It  will  be 


Zuzi  Temporizes  197 

good  to  see  the  babies  and  meet  our  friends  again, 
won't  it?" 

They  turned  their  backs  upon  the  river,  and 
dropped  into  single  file  on  the  narrow,  stony  trail 
that  led  away  across  the  grass-covered  nsekes 
(plains)  toward  the  forest  country  of  Yenge. 

Mavambu  was  soon  left  far  behind,  dawdling  in 
the  Boma  shops  in  search  of  bargains  in  alleged 
rum,  adulterated  gunpowder,  and  flimsy  ginghams 
with  which  he  intended  to  load  his  caravan  before 
returning  to  the  Mayombe. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

Welcome  Bonds. 

M^^^HE  homecoming  was  both  sad  and  glad.  If 
M  ^j  perfect  victory  was  not  with  them  to  re- 
^^^^  joice  their  hearts  after  their  trying  jour- 
ney there  were  at  any  rate  good  friends  to  meet 
them  with  a  loving  welcome.  Lelo  was  better  off 
than  Vangu,  as  she  had  her  little  ones  to  greet  her. 

Some  days  later  the  quiet  atmosphere  of  the  Fula 
was  disturbed  by  the  booming  of  overloaded  flint- 
lock guns  being  discharged  in  Mavambu's  village. 
The  guns  were  fastened  firmly  to  forked  sticks 
driven  into  the  ground,  and  a  cord  was  attached  to 
the  trigger.  The  process  of  reloading  being  com- 
pleted, due  notice  was  given  to  all  concerned  to  get 
out  of  the  way.  The  crowd  dispersed  and  put  their 
huts  between  themselves  and  the  deadly  weapons. 

The  improvised  "cannon"  were  generally  fired 
successfully,  but  occasionally  the  gas-pipe  barrels 
burst  and  then  the  venturesome  fellow  who  had 
pulled  the  string  was  thankful  that  a  corner  of  a 
hut  shielded  him  from  the  flying  debris. 

A  crowd  of  people  from  the  surrounding  villages 
and  some  boys  from  the  Vula  were  drawn  to  Ma- 
vambu's town.     After  being  attracted  by  the  noise 


Welcome  Bonds  199 

they  were  in  due  time  entertained  with  an  ora- 
tion delivered  by  Mavambu. 

Standing  somewhat  unsteadily  in  the  midst  of 
his  attentive  auditors,  Mavambu  made  his  speech. 
Those  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  making  out  what  he  said,  as  his  throat  was 
considerably  clogged  by  many  liberal  applications 
of  trade  gin.  It  was  a  vile  concoction  he  had 
brought  from  Boma,  the  ingredients  of  which  were 
unknown  to  the  laity.  Its  purpose  seemed  to  be 
to  deprive  users  of  sense,  vigor,  and  life  for  the 
doubtful  benefit  of  trade  and  the  temporary  increase 
of  government  revenue.  Nominally  it  was  cheap; 
actually  it  was  dear  stuff  to  have  in  the  country 
at  any  price. 

Mavambu  reminded  the  assembly  of  the  fact  that 
he  had  just  returned  from  Boma,  where  he  had 
been  to  see  about  a  palaver  with  two  of  his  re- 
fractory chattels.  He  informed  them  that  he  had 
laid  the  matter  before  his  friend,  the  Zuzi,  who  was 
a  wise  and  good  man,  consequently  he  had  now  the 
pleasure  of  announcing  to  them  that  he  had  come 
out  of  the  skirmish  with  flying  colors.  The  rebels, 
said  he,  had  been  ignominiously  defeated,  and  to 
him,  his  friend  the  Zuzi  had  awarded  the  victory. 

Upon  reaching  home,  he  told  them,  his  first 
thought  had  been  to  call  his  friends  and  good  neigh- 
bors, and  impart  to  them  the  glad  news,  and  it  was 
to  celebrate  this  event  that  the  guns  were  being  fired. 
His  peroration,  if  not  in  a  clear  voice,  was  delivered 


200  A  Congo  Chattel 

with  a  broad  smile,  probably  induced  by  the  same 
concoction  that  made  his  legs  unsteady.     Said  he, 

"Lelo  must  come  back  to  me,  and  this  will  serve 
as  a  lesson  to  all  other  women  having  like  rebel- 
lious dispositions." 

A  few  favored  friends,  after  noisily  congratulat- 
ing Mavambu,  remained  to  drink  good  success  to 
him  in  all  outstanding  palavers.  From  the  bursts 
of  merriment  and  shouts  of  triumph  heard  that  day 
they  were  anticipating  future  favorable  decisions. 

Mavambu's  victory,  after  all,  was  mostly  in  the 
bottles  brought  from  Boma;  nothing  much  re- 
mained of  it  but  aches  and  bad  stomachs  next  day. 
It  was  without  avail  since  all  efforts  to  compel 
Lelo  to  go  back  to  him  were  fruitless.  He  sent  a 
messenger  to  the  Vula,  demanding  that  she  comply 
at  once  with  the  lawful  decision  of  the  Zujsi  Pa- 
laver that  had  been  made  in  his  favor.  Lelo's  reply 
was  that  she  was  quite  within  the  law  at  the  Vula, 
seeing  that  she  had  not  been  commanded  to  leave, 
but  simply  advised  to  do  so.  She  said  that  as  the 
advice  did  not  strike  her  as  good  she  would  not 
take  it. 

Mavambu  fumed  for  a  while,  and  made  many 
threats  before  settling  down  to  await  a  more  favor- 
able season  for  plucking  the  fruit  of  his  conquest. 
Confiding  his  troubles  to  a  sympathetic  friend,  he 
one  day  remarked, 

"Now  I  drop  it,  but  when  I  get  so  angry  that 
the  skin  of  my  forehead  puckers  between  my  eyes, 


..:L...^yiflnik^ 

K                               '^                              '^^3Smi 

OUTSTATION    PUPILS 


DAY  SCHOOL  AT  VUNGU 


Welcome  Bonds  201 

then  I  will  go  again  and  reveal  to  Zuzi  how  his 
words  are  set  at  nought  by  these  native  Christians 
and  interloping  missionaries." 

Mavambu  did  not  relinquish  his  claim,  but  con- 
ditions evidently  remained  unfavorable  to  the 
puckering  process,  for  it  failed  to  take  place.  Ma- 
vambu's  countenance  retained  its  normal  appear- 
ance, and  Lelo  was  left  unmolested  with  Vangu 
at  the  Vula. 

A  full  year  passed  before  Lelo  asked  to  be  bap- 
tized and  taken  into  the  church.  She  had  been 
faithful  in  her  testimony  and  her  life  so  she  was 
gladly  received  by  her  pastor. 

There  was  one  cloud  in  Lelo's  sky  on  the  day 
she  was  baptized.  Vangu  was  not  permitted  to  go 
down  into  the  water  with  her.  Vangu  had  asked  to 
be  admitted  to  a  place  in  the  ranks  of  the  little  com- 
pany of  Christians  at  Yenge,  but  had  been  requested 
to  wait  a  little  while  longer,  until  she  had  learned 
better  the  meaning  of  baptism  and  the  require- 
ments of  the  church. 

On  that  same  day,  much  to  the  joy  of  all,  two 
other  girls  were  among  the  little  company  of  ac- 
cepted candidates.  The  missionaries  understood 
that  the  church  could  never  be  really  strong  until 
there  were  more  women  in  it,  and  so  every  female 
recruit  was  doubly  welcomed.  The  women  had 
held  out  long;  they  were  far  more  obdurate  than 
the  men  to  the  plea  of  the  gospel.  In  fact  the 
women  had  worked  long  and  hard  to  keep  the  men 


202  A  Congo  Chattel 

and  boys  from  having  anything  to  do  with  the 
"mambu  maNzamhi."  Thus  the  changed  attitude 
of  some  toward  the  "words  of  God,"  so  long  de- 
layed, was  now  gladly  received. 

Not  long  after  Lelo  had  become  a  member  of  the 
visible  church  another  important  event  transpired 
in  her  life.  Lelo  "fell  in  love."  Mabiala  was  a 
trustworthy  Christian  man  who  had  worked  long 
and  faithfully  for  Mr.  Missionary.  He  was  kind 
and  reliable  and  upon  him  devolved  much  of  the 
outside  work  on  the  station  premises  during  the 
time  Mr.  Missionary  was  away  on  his  preaching 
tours. 

Apart  from  any  consideration  of  sentiment,  or 
of  the  feelings  of  the  principals,  the  marriage  bond 
seemed  to  be  the  only  way  of  escape  whereby  Lelo 
could  ever  actually  be  set  free,  and  thereby  evade 
the  ever- impending  wrathful  claims  of  Mavambu. 
It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  though,  that  she  considered 
marriage  with  that  end  in  view,  for  Lelo  had  really 
fallen  in  love. 

As  a  single  woman  Lelo  had  only  one  barrier  be- 
tween herself  and  Mavambu  and  the  carrying  out 
of  his  desires  of  vengeance  upon  her.  That  ob- 
stacle was  a  living  missionary.  A  dead  missionary 
would  have  offered  no  hindrance,  and  a  missionary 
on  furlough  would  have  taken  away  the  obstruction 
from  his  path.  Lelo's  sole  dependence  under  God, 
and  hope  of  safety  from  cruel  servitude,  was  a  live 
missionary  who  was  on  the  spot. 


Welcome  Bonds  203 

Not  so  far  away  there  were  places  where  there 
were  no  Christians  and  no  missionary,  but  life  in 
those  parts  did  not  have  much  to  offer  to  the  un- 
fortunate women  who  existed  there ;  they  were  per- 
ishing like  overworked  beasts  of  burden,  having  no 
helping  hand  outstretched  to  them.  So  Lelo's 
safety  depended  a  great  deal  upon  the  bare  fact 
that  at  Yenge  there  was  a  missionary,  unburied  and 
still  on  duty. 

It  would  be  an  excellent  change  for  Lelo  to  have 
a  real  husband,  one  who  could  give  her  and  the 
children  the  loving  protection  they  needed.  The 
only  difficulty  in  carrying  out  their  plans  for  the 
union  was  Mavambu.  He  could  still  be  seen,  low- 
ering like  a  wrathful  cloud  over  the  bright  visions 
of  the  future,  and  threatening  to  dispel  them  with  a 
storm. 

Lelo  found  a  way  out,  of  course ;  she  would  not 
have  been  true  to  type  if  she  had  not,  since  she  was 
a  woman  and  in  love.  She  went  to  visit  the  sur- 
viving head  of  her  clan^  and  laid  before  him  a  plan 
for  his  benefit.  In  all  the  happenings  of  the  past 
years,  as  far  as  they  had  affected  Lelo,  he  had 
been  a  mildly  interested  observer ;  now  he  was  to 
be  actively  enlisted  in  the  cause  of  freedom.  It 
was  naturally  to  be  expected  that  any  project  for 
his  own  material  welfare  would  have  his  attentive 
consideration,  and  Lelo's  expectations  were  not  dis- 
appointed. 

She  sorrowed,  she  said,  since  it  was  settled  that 


204  A  Congo  Chattel 

she  was  to  be  united  in  matrimony  to  Mabiala,  to 
think  of  her  fiance  presenting  a  dowry  for  her  to 
anyone  outside  the  family  circle,  as  if  it  were  the 
price  of  a  slave.  She  was  a  respectable  woman, 
said  she,  and  one  who  fortunately  still  had  a  head  to 
her  family;  and  as  such  her  dowry  should  change 
hands,  and  ought  to  be  given,  but  it  could  only  law- 
fully go  into  the  hands  of  the  head  of  the  clan. 
Aside  from  the  light  way  in  which  she  had  been 
treated  by  the  Ancients,  in  being  given  as  a  slave 
to  an  Old  Chief  as  the  price  of  a  borrowed  jug, 
strong  blood  ties  held  her,  and  she  still  clung  to 
her  family  at  heart,  and  would  be  glad  to  thus  pub- 
licly re-enter  its  ranks.  This  she  set  forth  in  well- 
chosen  words  calculated  to  hold  the  attention  of  the 
head  of  the  family. 

Matundu,  the  head  of  her  clan,  was  not  averse 
to  the  proposition  to  begin  with,  and  the  more  he 
thought  upon  the  matter  of  retrieving  for  the 
family  an  "ngudi"  (a  child-bearing  woman)  having 
living  children  of  her  own  besides  a  dowry,  and  a 
good  husband,  the  more  heartily  he  approved  the 
plan.  Lelo  had  made  indeed  a  strategic  move  of 
value  by  interesting  Matundu  in  a  revival  of  his 
family  rights. 

Hearing  of  these  arrangements,  which  were  to 
be  concluded  without  his  voice  being  heard,  or  his 
presence  required,  Mavambu  sent  word  that  he 
would  remove  his  objection  to  a  legal  marriage, 
and  forfeit  his  claims  upon  Lelo,  if  Matundu  would 


Welcome  Bonds  ^5 

but  divide  the  dowry  with  him.  His  messenger 
was  sent  back  with  the  reply,  that  as  he  was  not  a 
member  of  the  family,  and  had  no  native  rights  in 
their  clan,  they  could  not  accept  his  compromise. 
Matundu  added  graciously  that  Mavambu's  rela- 
tions with  Lelo  had  been  altogether  irregular,  and 
that  now  upon  the  eve  of  her  reinstatement  into 
good  society  it  would  be  hazardous  to  start  with 
another  such  misstep  as  the  one  proposed. 

At  this  rejoinder  Mavambu  might  well  have  knit 
his  brows,  but  even  that  was  not  enough  to  cause 
them  to  contract  sufficiently  to  indicate  nganzi 
(wrath) ;  so  the  preparations  went  on  although 
Lelo  was  not  without  some  misgivings  regarding 
the  next  move  her  deaf  lord  might  make. 

The  rebellion  of  Lelo  was  probably  the  means 
of  instilling  mutinous  thoughts  into  little  Simba's 
heart.  If  one  woman  could  leave  the  man  that 
owned  her  and  carry  out  the  matter  so  successfully, 
why  not  another?  Life  with  Mavambu  was  not 
the  rosy-hued  dream  of  luxury  he  had  depicted, 
but  it  was  more  and  more  a  drudging  reality. 

She  went  over  to  see  Lelo  one  day,  and  re- 
marked, 

"I  wish  I  were  like  you,"  and  looked  very  mourn- 
ful while  saying  it. 

"Like  me,  in  what  way?" 

"Free  from  Mavambu.  I  wish  I  had  somebody 
to  help  me." 

"You  can  get  help,"  promptly  affirmed  Lelo. 


2o6  A  Congo  Chattel 

"I  don't  see  how." 

"The  Lord  will  help  you  as  He  helped  me !" 

"Nzamhif  But,  I  thought  it  was  Mrs.  Mis- 
sionary." 

"Give  your  heart  to  Him.  He  can  help  you 
better  than  the  missionaries." 

"Me,  I  don't  like  the  words  of  God,"  answered 
Simba  frankly.  "I  don't  want  to  be  a  'person  of 
the  church.' " 

"Then  I  don't  see  any  other  help  for  you." 

Simba  went  away  grieved,  longing  for  liberty, 
but  with  no  faith  in  the  right  means,  and  the  only 
way  by  which  she  could  secure  it. 

In  due  time  the  arrangements  were  concluded 
between  the  remaining  relatives  of  the  contract- 
ing parties.  The  dowry  had  been  paid,  Lelo  rein- 
stated, and  matters  amicably  agreed  upon  and  set- 
tled in  the  family  consultations. 

The  happy  couple  set  out  on  their  fifty-mile 
tramp  to  Boma,  the  nearest  place  at  which  they 
could  be  married  in  accordance  with  the  laws 
brought  in  by  the  new  lords  of  the  land.  Mabiala 
and  Lelo  were  accompanied  by  another  couple  from 
the  Vula,  and  by  the  witnesses  required  for  the 
legal  ceremony. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  office  of  the  Civil 
State,  to  see  the  Officer  delegated  to  make  the 
fifteen-day  publication  before  the  marriage  could 
be  performed,  they  were  met  by  another  black  in- 
terpreter.    He  was  not  the  same  one  that  Lelo 


Welcome  Bonds  207 

had  encountered  on  her  first  journey  to  Boma, 
but  he  proved  himself  a  member  of  the  same 
family  of  imposters. 

Looking  them  over  superciliously,  in  a  way  pe- 
culiar to  some  savages  in  clothes,  as  if  he  resented 
their  intrusion  upon  his  leisure,  or  as  if  he  strongly 
suspected  them  of  some  criminal  designs,  he  de- 
manded abruptly, 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"We  wish  to  get  married,"  humbly  replied  Ma- 
biala,  turning  in  his  hands  a  foreign  straw  hat, 
borrowed  for  the  occasion. 

"Married?"  This  was  uttered  with  a  disdainful 
sniif.     And  then,  haughtily, 

"Have  you  any  witnesses?" 

"These  four  here." 

Two  of  the  number  were  friends  of  Mabiala 
who  were  employed  at  Boma.  They  had  with 
difficulty  secured  permission  to  leave  their  work 
for  an  hour  for  the  purpose. 

"Only  four  witnesses,  and  two  couples  to  be 
married?  Not  enough;  go  back,  and  get  four 
more;  then  come  on  the  sixth  day  of  next  week, 
with  eight  witnesses,  four  for  each  couple." 

"But  the  food  we  brought  with  us  from  home 
will  not  hold  out  as  long  as  that,"  politely  objected 
Mabiala. 

"AlleZj  kwenda"  scornfully  snapped  his  Excel- 
lency the  Interpreter.  Translated  from  the 
French  and  Kifioti  the  two  words  mean,  impera- 


2o8  A  Congo  Chattel 

lively  uttered,  "to  get  out,  and  be  quick  about  it !" 
If  not,  the  tone  intimated,  then  a  bite  would  follow 
the  threatening  bark  to  hasten  their  lagging  steps. 

They  knew  very  well  from  common  report  that 
only  four  witnesses  of  their  own  race  were  neces- 
sary, but  what  the  law  of  the  mindele  demanded, 
and  what  the  interpreter  required  of  them,  were 
two  widely  different  matters. 

To  the  ill-concealed  displeasure  of  the  Dingizi, 
they  came  back  next  morning,  bearing  a  letter  from 
the  Vula,  sealed  and  addressed  to  Monsieur  VOffi- 
cier  d' Etat-Civil.  The  letter  respectfully  protested 
against  needless  hardship  and  expense  imposed 
upon  law-abiding  people  who  had  already  tramped 
fifty  miles  to  fulfil  legal  requirements  and  in  mak- 
ing them  wait  another  week  before  they  could  even 
give  preliminary  notice  of  their  intention  to  marry. 
The  letter  was  put  into  the  hands  of  the  officer 
himself  and  did  not  pass  through  thqse  of  the  in- 
terpreter. The  officer  called  the  parties  before 
him  after  only  a  short  delay. 

When  he  began  to  write  down  the  names  of  the 
principals  and  witnesses,  their  approximate  ages, 
and  as  much  information  about  their  ancestry  as 
they  possessed,  he  was  interrupted  by  a  young  man 
who  entered  breathlessly.  He  had  not  been  sum- 
moned by  Mabiala,  but  he  seemed  to  act  as  if  he 
had  been  sent  for.     Said  he: 

"Mfumu,  I  object!  This  woman  belongs  to  my 
brother,  Mavambu,  the  Medal  Chief  at  Yenge." 


<  *>,^_^  ^ 

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'^^^yi^^  ^  Sj^^H 

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- 

BRICK    PRESS    INVENTED    BY     NATIVE    EVANGELIST 


CONGREGATION   AT  DEDICATION    OF   YEMA   CHAPEL 


Welcome  Bonds  209 

Regarding  Lelo  sternly,  the  officer  asked,  via  the 
ordinary  channel, 

"You  are  married?" 

"No,  I  am  not  married  to  Mavambu."  And  then 
followed  an  outline  of  the  story,  hastily  sketched 
by  Lelo,  and  filled  in  by  interpolations  from 
Mabiala. 

"Mfumu,  this  is  all  a  pack  of  lies,"  denied  the 
relative  of  Mavambu,  "she  is  an  evil  woman  who 
has  contracted  the  habit  of  running  away.  She 
would  rather  walk  the  streets  of  Boma  than  live 
with  my  brother,  her  own  husband." 

"The  streets  of  Boma?  I  thought  you  came 
from  up-country,"  queried  the  officer  suspiciously. 

''Mfumu,  I  know  nothing  of  Boma ;  we  have  just 
come  from  Yenge !" 

The  interpreter  leered  upon  her,  and  said  sig- 
nificantly, 

"I  have  seen  this  evil  woman  often  upon  the 
streets  of  Boma." 

His  assurance  was  so  great  that  the  officer  was 
visibly  impressed,  and  turned  to  Lelo  with  inde- 
cision  written  on  his  countenance. 

"In  all  my  life,"  she  protested,  "I  have  been  but 
twice  in  Boma,  and  I  hope  that  I  shall  never  be 
obliged  to  come  again." 

Then  a  happy  thought  caused  her  to  say : 

"Ask  up  at  the  Missioni  if  my  words  are  not 
true." 

Ah,  yes,  of  course.     The  officer  carefully  scru- 


2IO  A  Congo  Chattel 

tinized  the  letter  that  lay  on  the  table  before  him. 
Lifting  his  eyes,  he  promptly  informed  the  in- 
terpreter that  he  was  mistaken,  told  Mavambu's 
relative  that  his  claim  was  outlawed,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  post  the  bans  before  the  interpreter 
and  the  other  hinderer  realized  how  quickly  their 
little  scheme  had  been  demolished.  Truly,  an 
nkanda  (book)  works  wonders  sometimes. 

The  happy  couples  and  their  friendly  witnesses 
were  ready  and  waiting  at  the  door  of  the  Officer 
of  Civil  State  long  before  the  appointed  hour  of 
eight  on  the  auspicious  morning  two  weeks  later. 

Mabiala's  generously  proportioned  feet  were 
shod  in  white  canvas  slippers,  his  legs  clothed 
in  khaki  pants,  his  chest  covered  with  a  red  singlet, 
his  shoulders  bearing  a  white  coat,  and  above, 
all  was  perched  a  real  hat  of  straw,  even  though 
somewhat  the  worse  for  wear.  In  his  hand,  bor- 
rowed for  the  occasion,  was  a  curved-handled  cane 
of  the  prevailing  Boma  mode.  These  extra 
touches  were  in  honor  of  the  metropolis,  where 
most  of  the  people  wore  pants,  shoes,  hats,  and 
carried  canes.  Lelo  thought  he  looked  well  and 
doubtless  he  agreed  with  her  in  her  good  opinion. 

Lelo  was  now  about  thirty-five  years  old,  a  solid- 
ly built  woman  of  medium  height.  Her  appear- 
ance was  pleasing,  she  had  a  kind  smile  and  a  low, 
gentle  voice.  Something  about  her  well-shaped 
^^9d  and  firmly  built  chin  denoted  the  sense  and 


Welcome  Bonds  211 

determination  she  had  exhibited  at  various  critical 
epochs  of  her  checkered  life. 

Mavambu  had  spitefully  called  her  an  old  wo- 
man, but  she  was  neither  old  nor  ill-favored.  In 
due  time,  Monsieur  VOfficier,  utterly  unconscious 
of  any  flattery,  wrote  down  her  age  in  the  marriage 
certificate  as  twenty-three.  This  was  his  own  esti- 
mate of  course,  as  no  native  was  ever  asked  in  that 
office  such  a  trifling  question  as  "How  old  are 
you?"  Her  name  appeared  in  the  same  place  as 
Malia  Lelo.  Malia,  or  Mary,  was  the  name  she 
had  added  to  herself  when  she  was  baptized. 

As  a  concession  to  city  style  her  head  was 
swathed  in  a  gay-colored  handkerchief,  and  in  her 
hand  she  carefully  bore  a  folded  cotton  umbrella. 
This  was  an  ante-nuptial  gift  from  the  groom,  pru- 
dently selected,  as  it  would  be  very  serviceable  in 
future  for  either  member  of  the  conjugal  associa- 
tion for  use  upon  state  occasions. 

During  the  course  of  bewildering  questions  Ma- 
biala  understood  the  officer  to  ask: 

"Do  you  solemnly  promise  to  protect  and  pro- 
vide for  this  woman  through  life?"  To  which 
he  emphatically  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

Said  the  officer  to  Lelo: 

"Will  you  obey  this  man  and  follow  him 
wherever  he  may  go?"  She  said  that  she  would 
willingly  and  gladly  go  with  him. 

The  interpreter  here  made  a  slight  interpola- 
tion, that  probably  was  not  in  the  original  French 


212  A  Congo  Chattel 

of  Mister  the  Officer.  Said  he  to  Lelo,  when  in- 
forming her  as  to  the  duties  of  her  new  state: 

"When  you  have  a  child  you  must  take  good 
care  of  it.  If  it  should  die  in  infancy,  you  will 
be  brought  here  by  a  soldier,  and  put  into  bloc." 

How  changed  was  Lelo's  life  now!  How  dif- 
ferent her  prospects  from  the  day  she  had  fol- 
lowed Mavambu  to  his  compound,  loaded  down 
like  a  beast  of  burden !  What  a  difference  the  mis- 
sionary with  his  black-covered  Bible  in  which  was 
the  nsamu  wambote  had  made  in  her  life!  Ma- 
vambu was  bound  by  that  marriage  certificate  as 
well  as  Mabiala  and  Lelo.  He  would  be  prevented 
by  it  from  doing  any  further  mischief. 

Soon  Lelo  would  stand  in  the  little  grass-roofed 
chapel  at  Yenge,  her  little  girls  by  her  side,  to  have 
the  marriage  ceremony  performed  as  customary 
in  the  presence  of  the  native  congregation.  How 
different  the  prospects  for  her  own  little  ones  as 
contrasted  with  the  outlook  on  life  she  had  had 
when  starting  off  with  Bungu's  caravan  from  her 
mother  and  home^  her  life  forfeited  for  a  worthless 
jug. 

How  similar  the  beginnings  of  Lelo's  life  to  that 
of  millions  of  other  chattels  in  the  still  dark  habi- 
tations of  cruelty  just  outside  the  mission  com- 
pounds. Alas!  for  them  no  deliverer  had  yet 
come  bearing  such  light  under  black  covers.  She 
was  no  more  worthy  than  the  multitudes  swarm- 
ing over  the  land,  but  she  was  saved  and  secure 


Welcome  Bonds  213 

while  they  still  waited  for  the  human  epistles  bear- 
ing the  good  tidings.  The  women  were  passing 
fast  away  without  hearing  the  news;  the  mes- 
sengers were  so  slow,  so  slow,  in  coming. 

Proudly  bearing  his  marriage  certificate  in  one 
hand,  and  swinging  his  friend's  cane  with  the  other, 
Mabiala  marched,  erect  and  smiling,  up  the  broad 
street  shaded  by  palm  trees  to  the  Vula  followed 
in  single  file  by  the  relieved  and  happy  com- 
pany. A  few  hours  more  and  the  dust  of  Boma 
would  be  shaken  from  their  feet. 

"Well,  Lelo,"  asked  Mrs.  Missionary,  smiling  at 
the  bride,  "is  it  all  over?'* 

With  a  sigh  of  relief  she  answered  contentedly, 
"Yes,  thank  the  Lord!" 

Then  after  an  almost  imperceptible  pause  added, 

"And  the  Mindele  mia  Nzambi/^ 


tCl4»785*V 


